In Search of Family
by Conspirator
Summary: An old man took a fatherly interest in Kenshin as he lay in despair in Rakuninmura. Was it just coincidence that brought the two together?
1. Chapter 1

An old man took a fatherly interest in Kenshin as he lay in despair in Rakuninmura. Was it just coincidence that brought the two together? MAJOR SPOILER WARNING: This story is based on the manga and OAV versions of the Tomoe story, and on the manga version of the Jinchuu arc. It begins in early October 1868.  
  
Disclaimer: All hail Watsuki-sama--he (and all the media conglomerates) own the RK characters. I won't make a dime off this.  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 1  
  
It was a beautiful day in Edo--cool and crisp, the fall leaves brilliant in their display of color-the kind of day that made you truly appreciate being alive. It could have been hot, muggy, and gloomy, though, as far as Yukishiro Takuo was concerned. For the past four years, life for him had just been an undifferentiated cycle of waking, eating, working, sleeping. Seasons probably did come and go, but he didn't notice, didn't care. He had had a family once--a loving wife, a beautiful and devoted daughter, and a son who, well, perhaps the less said the better, but a son nonetheless. His wife had died giving birth to that son, but his daughter, Tomoe, had taken to caring for this baby like a true mother, and little Enishi looked up to her like a mother. Come to think of it, only Tomoe seemed to have the ability to handle the child, who seemed to have an angry, violent streak in him.  
  
That warm home life had disappeared quite suddenly four years ago. The Bakumatsu had come to their doorstep when Tomoe's fiancé Kiyosato, her childhood sweetheart, was killed in Kyoto by the Hitokiri Battousai. Tomoe, always so quiet and secretive, then left without warning, leaving only a note saying that she was going to Kyoto to avenge her fiance's murder. Enishi, never an easy child, became even more difficult as his anger over Tomoe's departure grew; he took off for Kyoto not long afterward to find Tomoe.  
  
Takuo's world was shattered. Yes, he still had his job with the Bakufu government, just as his father had before him, and his father's father before him. Truth be told, he hated the job and hated the system that had decreed that he must follow in his father's footsteps into that job. It had only been his family that had made his life bearable, and now that was gone, ripped away by the revolution that had quickly devoured all of Japan. Then he had heard the rumor, that Tomoe had been killed by that same Hitokiri Battousai. As for Enishi, no one knew if the child was alive or dead.  
  
It had been too much to bear. Not caring if he lived or died, he wandered the city until he came to Rakuninmura, the place for lost souls. They called him Oibore there--"old fool"--a name he thought was fairly apt and the name he now used all the time. It was this place that became his refuge until he finally felt strong enough to enter the world again. He couldn't bear the thought of returning to his drudge of a job--teaching was more to his liking--and so he had become a sort of wandering teacher. It didn't pay much, but it brought some warmth to his heart to work with the young students. The pain of loss, however, never went away.  
  
"Another day, just like the rest," he sighed that autumn morning as he picked at his meager breakfast of soup and rice. He could remember happier days, when his table would have been surrounded by smiling little faces and happy chatter.  
  
A knock at the door broke his reverie. The nature of the knocker, however, broke his composure--it was a soldier wearing the crest of the Chousu clan. The country was still in a state of chaos, that was true, but the Shogunate had already fallen after the recent battle of Toba Fushimi. What could the Ishin Shishi possibly want with a former low-level Bakufu functionary like himself? He found himself shaking like a leaf.  
  
"You are Yukishiro Takuo?" the soldier inquired. "My lord, Katsura Kogoro, wishes to meet with you. He's in the carriage outside. May he come in?"  
  
Katsura Kogoro? Head of the Chousu clan and leader of the Ishin Shishi? Here? To say that he was astonished would have been an understatement.  
  
"I... I... Have I done something to offend the Ishin Shishi? Have I done something wrong?" sputtered Oibore. "I assure you that... "  
  
"Yukishiro-san," the soldier cut in, "it's nothing like that. My lord has come to pay his respects and only wishes to have a private talk."  
  
Oibore was dumbstruck--pay his respects? to me?---but he managed to nod his assent. Moments later, Katsura Kogoro himself stood in his doorway.  
  
"Katsura-sama," Oibore managed to say as he bowed low, despite a wave of butterflies in his stomach. "I'm sure I don't deserve the honor of your visit--I am just a traveling teacher--but welcome to my small home. I have nothing to offer you, though, except some tea and rice..."  
  
"Please, Yukishiro-san, don't put yourself out on my account," the Chousu leader said gently. "It's a personal matter I have come about. I bring you news of your daughter, Yukishiro Tomoe. Or perhaps I should say Himura Tomoe." He paused, then said, "Your daughter died three years ago trying to save the man she loved."  
  
"My daughter? Himura Tomoe?" Oibore's mind was racing a mile a minute. "I don't understand. She disappeared four years ago in Kyoto. Her fiance was killed by that monster, Hitokiri Battousai, and I heard he killed her, too. And.Himura? Who's that? I don't understand!"  
  
"The Battousai, that 'monster,' as you call him, has a name. It's Himura-- Himura Kenshin."  
  
"Himura Kenshin? My daughter...she married the assassin?" The incomprehension and astonishment were clearly written on the old man's face.  
  
Katsura smiled sadly, shaking his head in affirmation. "The reason I've come to tell you all this is because I was the one who created what Himura Kenshin became. I discovered Himura five years ago among Takasugi Shinsaku's army, the Kiheitai. He was just a boy--only 14--but already he had skills with a sword that surpassed any man, including myself. The Chousu needed a shadow assassin. It was as if the gods themselves had delivered to us a gift that went beyond our wildest dreams. The boy told me he wanted to wield his sword to help bring an era of peace and justice to the people he saw suffering all around him, but I know he didn't realize what we were asking of him. Takasugi warned me that asking a 14-year-old to do the work of an assassin would destroy his soul, but I was selfish. I saw our victory in that boy--nothing else seemed to matter.  
  
"Over the months, though, I could see that Takasugi was right. The light that used to shine in the boy's eyes slowly faded. He was shy to begin with, but the other men avoided him because of what he was, leaving him even more alone. Where I once saw idealism and hope, I now saw despair and hopelessness. And yet, he never once flinched at the work he had pledged to do."  
  
He stopped to let the obviously mystified Oibore digest this information, before continuing on.  
  
"Your daughter, Tomoe, did come to Kyoto, and she did find the Battousai. It was an evening, and he was under attack by a Bakufu hitokiri. He told me it was a hard-won fight, and when it was over, he saw your daughter, who had witnessed everything. He had always been told to kill any witnesses, but she was not a soldier. And she had fainted, from too much sake or from the gore of what she saw we don't know. At any rate, Himura picked her up in his arms and carried her back to the inn that served as our headquarters."  
  
Oibore's eyes widened as thoughts of what likely happened next raced through his mind; the thoughts were not pleasant.  
  
"He asked our innkeeper to look after Tomoe," Katsura continued, sensing Oibore's fears, "and she did, not only that night, but also afterwards by giving her a job as a waitress. For Kenshin's part, he always remained totally honorable in his relations with Tomoe.  
  
"As for your daughter, she discovered for herself that the 'monster' who had killed her fiance was no monster, but only a boy, now all of 15 years old. She and I had a long talk after she had been at the inn for some weeks. She told me of his despair, that all he saw for himself was death in the near future. She told me how, every time he would receive instructions for an assassination, a little piece of his soul seemed to die. She told me how he would come back after every job and wash his hands over and over, trying to wash the blood from his soul. She told us of his genuine astonishment at her small acts of kindness--covering him with a blanket when he was napping, cleaning his room, waiting for his return at night. No one had ever done that for him before in his entire life, she said. None of us knew that at some point she had contacted the Bakufu forces, offering to help kill the Hitokiri Battousai in revenge. What I do know is that whatever hate may have been in her heart, it melted, and slowly her kindnesses toward Himura brought him back from the edge of despair.  
  
"Then the Ikedaya affair happened--a vital group of Ishin Shishi were slain by the Shinsengumi--and we all had to scatter and hide. I sent Himura to a farm in Otsu and suggested that Tomoe go with him so they could pretend to be a married couple. They were to live there until it was safe to return to Kyoto. It was during those few months that they truly fell in love and truly became married.  
  
"But they were betrayed. There was a spy among the Chousu who told the Shogun's troops where to find them. When Tomoe learned of the plan, she left the farm to try to stop them. When Himura learned what was happening, he took off after her to bring her back. This was part of the enemy's plan, however, and Himura was attacked three separate times on his way. He won each fight, but he was severely wounded by the time he finally reached the leader himself. Still, he tried to defeat his adversary. When Tomoe saw what was happening and that Himura would be killed, she ran out to try to save him. She lunged between the two men, trying to kill the soldier with her tanto. But Himura had already started a last, desperate swing of his sword. He couldn't stop it in time. It hit Tomoe before going on to kill his enemy. She died in Himura's arms."  
  
He stopped his story as he saw tears starting to form in Oibore's eyes. When the old man had calmed, he continued.  
  
"I visited the farmhouse as soon as I heard the terrible news. He told me that Tomoe had brought him the only happiness he had ever known, that she had shown him what life should really be like, and that he had promised her that once the war was over, he would never kill again. Yukishiro-san, your daughter not only loved this man, but she also saved him twice--she saved his life and she saved his soul."  
  
Oibore could no longer hold back his tears. Emotions that he had kept tightly bound for four years now came flowing out in huge waves. Katsura rose and, much to Oibore's surprise, went to the kitchen to boil water and make some tea. When it was ready, he gently offered some to the weeping man.  
  
"Yukishiro-san," Katsura continued, "now you can understand why I myself have come to tell you this. It was my creation of the hitokiri that nearly destroyed a boy's soul. It was my creation of the hitokiri that shattered your family's happiness not just once, but twice. It is a burden that I will have to bear to the end of my days. Now I come to beg your forgiveness."  
  
Oibore didn't know what to say. He was overwhelmed by conflicting emotions--happiness that his daughter had finally found contentment and love, overwhelming sadness at the tragedy that had befallen her and her chosen one, and puzzlement at the cruel twist of fate that decreed that her love should be the same man who had killed her fiance.  
  
"Katsura-sama, you have been so kind to tell me this," he finally said, in a voice laden with grief. "None of us is without something we wish to atone for. How can I deny you forgiveness? At least now I know for sure what happened to my daughter..." And with that, he began to cry once again.  
  
After regaining his composure, he said, "Himura, then, is my son-in-law, the man my daughter loved. Where is he now, so I can meet him and thank him for giving her happiness?"  
  
"I don't know," Katsura replied truthfully. "After our victory at Toba Fushimi last January, he knew that the Shogunate had been defeated, so he asked for his release from service, which I gave. But he didn't say where he was going. Nobody knows where he is--he's disappeared."  
  
Oibore's disappointment with this news was written clearly on his face.  
  
"Yukishiro-san," Katsura said, "There is a diary..."  
  
"A diary?" Oibore was suddenly quiet.  
  
"After the tragedy in Otsu, I helped Himura arrange for Tomoe's burial at a monastery in Kyoto. Tomoe had kept a diary all those months. Himura left it in the care of the monks, with instructions to keep it safe for him."  
  
"Does it say anything about my son, Enishi? He followed Tomoe to Kyoto, and I've never heard from him again."  
  
"I don't know about that," Katsura responded, "but I remember Himura telling me that Tomoe's little brother once came to visit them-a surprise, I think, because no one was supposed to know where they were living. He said Tomoe told the boy to return to you in Edo."  
  
"A diary!" For the first time, Oibore felt a light turn on in his heart. "Where can I find this monastery? Oh, Katsura-sama, you have given me my first ray of happiness in four years!"  
  
Katsura quickly wrote down the directions and a letter of introduction for the monks, then handed it to the old man. "Thank you, Yukishiro-san, for allowing me to unburden myself to you. I wish you peace and happiness in this new Meiji era."  
  
"No, I should be thanking you," responded Oibore, smiling for the first time since he couldn't remember when. "You've given me a way to be near my daughter, who was the light of my life. It's a priceless gift for which I can never repay you."  
  
As soon as Katsura had left, Oibore began making plans to leave Edo. He doubted he would return-his daughter was in Kyoto, and that was where he now wanted to be. His decision to become a wandering teacher turned out to have been a good one, he realized, for it made a move such as this all the more possible. 'No lack of students in need of a teacher in Kyoto, I expect,' he thought to himself. By week's end, he was on the Tokaido Road, heading for Kyoto.  
  
  
  
Author's Note: For all you history buffs out there, Edo's name was not changed to Tokyo until late October 1868; this chapter takes place in early October 1868. If you're interested in RK-related Japanese history, check www.sakabatouzanbatou.com/history.html.  
  
I tend to follow the manga more than the OAV (Maigo-chan deserves major honors for the translations!); there are some differences in the timeline between the two. And, yes, I made up a first name for Tomoe's father-- Watsuki-sama didn't give him one.  
  
From Co-Conspirator: Wow! That was pretty spiffy, ne? If you thought so too, then let us know! If you didn't like it, get consoling and read it again! ^_^ I'm kidding, even if you thought it wasn't too great, let us know, but be warned that flames will only be used to make s'mores. Keep an eye out for the next chapter, it will be out before you know it!!  
  
Japanese terms: Bakamatsu: The civil war between the pro- and anti-Shogun factions Bakufu: Shogunate government Chousu Clan: One of the two major anti-Shogun clans in the civil war Ishin Shishi: Nickname for anti-Shogun factions Tanto: a short dagger 


	2. Chapter 2

Tomoe's father, Yukishiro Takuo (who goes by the name "Oibore," or "Old Fool"), starts his search for his daughter's grave and for the man who brought her happiness---Himura Kenshin. MAJOR SPOILER WARNING: This story is based on the manga and OAV versions of the Tomoe story, and on the manga version of the Jinchuu arc.  
  
Disclaimer: All hail Watsuki-sama---he (and all the media conglomerates) own the RK characters. I won't make a dime off this.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Kyoto turned out to be a city of chaos. Wherever Oibore looked, he saw signs of past fighting. Some sections of town had been totally burned to the ground, and although the fighting had largely stopped in the Kyoto area, he still felt a palpable fear in the air. "Good thing I hooked up with that convoy of merchants on the Tokaido Road," Oibore thought to himself. "It looks like it's still not safe to travel alone, even in the city."  
  
With no place to go, and no money even if he did have a place to go, Oibore instinctively headed to where he knew he'd find the best home away from home---Kyoto's version of Rakuninmura. He had even saved some of the food the merchants had given him during the trip as a sort of entrance ticket. It didn't take too long to find the seedy side of town, and not too long to find the home of the homeless. His instincts about his entrance ticket proved to be right on the mark.  
  
"Hey, old man! What the hell 'ya think you're doing here?" yelled a rather large, unpleasant-looking man as Oibore made his way into a group of men.  
  
Oibore smiled his most benign smile and bowed, saying, "Maa, maa, just an old fool down on his luck, looking for a place to stay. I don't suppose you'd care to join me in a little food---I'm so hungry after my long trip.."  
  
"Food?" The unpleasant-looking man perked up right away. "Hey, Fat Boy!" he yelled to what appeared to be an ex-samurai, "Look what we got here! It's dinner and a new guest!"  
  
Fat Boy sauntered over, eyeing Oibore suspiciously. "Where'd he come from?" he growled. "How'd he come by the food?"  
  
"Ah, you're always so suspicious---cheer up, let's eat!"  
  
And with that, Oibore found himself surrounded by ex-samurai, down-on-their- luck merchants, farmers, and a handful of men whose backgrounds he could not guess. As the food was passed around, conversation flowed, and the mood mellowed substantially until he felt as if he had known these men all his life. By the time dinner was done, he knew that Fat Boy ("Don't call me nothin' else," he warned with a scowl) had been a ronin for years, and that the unpleasant-looking man was really named Hiro and had lost his family in one of Kyoto's fires. They, in turn, now knew that he himself had just come from Edo to, as he put it, get a change of scenery. 'Is it just me, or is this the only place in Japan where social class means nothing?' he mused. Whatever the answer, there was no denying it---the companionship and acceptance these men showed made Oibore feel good.  
  
The next day he spent investigating the city and trying to follow Katsura's map to the monastery. That proved to be a difficult task. When he had arrived the evening before, it had been dusk. Now that it was daylight, what he saw as he left Rakuninmura shocked him. All around, for blocks and blocks, there was a teeming mass of country folk who had either been left homeless by war or had fled the countryside in advance of the armies. As he wandered through the crowds, he could tell from overheard conversations that one large group hailed from Toba and another from Fushimi, both of which had burned to the ground the previous winter. Yet another group was newly arrived from Aizu, where fighting was still raging. He silently thanked Tokugawa Yoshinobu for handing over Edo without a fight, thus sparing his own city this kind of misery.  
  
Eventually, he made his way out of the squalid refugee area and into a small marketplace, still lost in thought. He came back to his senses rather quickly, however, as he was suddenly accosted by a rather large group of ragged boys.  
  
"Hey, old man, give us some money," one of the boys yelled, brandishing a tanto, "or we'll give you a souvenir you won't forget!"  
  
Oibore didn't know what to do. It should have been fairly obvious to anyone, from the threadbare nature of his clothing, that he was anything but a wealthy man.  
  
"I'm just as penniless as you are!" he sputtered, but that just provoked the oldest of the gang to threaten him further. As the boys started moving in to rough him up, salvation arrived in the form of a greengrocer.  
  
"Hey, you hooligans, get away from here or I'll send the Hitokiri Battousai after you!" he shouted. Brandishing his grocer's knife, he sent the boys scurrying. "Nasty little brats," he muttered to no one in particular.  
  
He took the bewildered and frightened Oibore by the arm and led him into his small shop. "Sorry, old man. Those kids have it tough, what with the war driving them from their homes and all, but still..!"  
  
"You know the Hitokiri Battousai?" Oibore asked quickly, once he regained his composure.  
  
"Nah, it's just something to scare the kids with," the man laughed. "Never met him---you can tell 'cause I'm still alive!---but I hear he's nearly seven feet tall, muscles like tree trunks, and blood-red hair from all the lives he's taken. They say he once slaughtered an entire squad of Shinsengumi single-handed just for fun, and you know what a bloodthirsty bunch they were!"  
  
That certainly didn't sound like the man Katsura had described, Oibore thought to himself. Aloud he said, "So where is this hitokiri now?"  
  
"Got me," was the reply. "Some say he was killed at Toba Fushimi, some say he's still alive, but whichever it is, he hasn't been seen since then. He's just disappeared. To which I say, 'Good riddance!'---to him and the Shinsengumi both! You're not from around here, are you."  
  
"No" replied Oibore, "I just arrived yesterday. I'm what you might call a wandering teacher, looking for some students."  
  
"A teacher, eh? Not many of them in town right now, what with so many of the men off fighting. And my son needs someone to teach him figures and writing so he can work in the store. Maybe we could strike a bargain here. What's your name?"  
  
"People call me Oibore," Oibore replied, not wanting to get too specific. He had no idea whether people might have heard of his daughter or her connection to the Hitokiri Battousai.  
  
" 'Old Fool?' Hah! I can just see myself telling my son he'll be taking lessons from an old fool! Well, my name's Ko the Greengrocer. When can you start?"  
  
A stroke of luck, thought Oibore---my first morning out, and already I've lined up a student! "Ko-san," he replied, "you honor me with your request. If I could just have a day or two to learn my way around the city, find a place to live.."  
  
"No problem, Oibore-sensei," Ko replied, smiling, "just let me know when you're ready. And if there's anything I can do to help, just let me know--- I can tell you've been through some hard times. Here's a bit of rice and tofu so you won't get hungry."  
  
Oibore was truly overwhelmed at Ko's generosity and bowed profusely as he left the shop. Then, once again, he stepped out into the streets of Kyoto, this time keeping a wary eye on everyone he passed.  
  
Despite his map from Katsura, he found it difficult to find his destination. Some of the landmarks Katsura had noted seemed no longer to exist, and some of the twists and turns of Kyoto's streets seemed to take him in circles, so it was late afternoon before he finally found the monastery. He wanted so much to enter the grounds right away, but after his encounter with the gang of boys that morning, the thought of having to walk through Kyoto after dark scared him. 'At least now I know how to get here,' he thought to himself. So, he returned to Rakuninmura, disappointed that it was too late to visit the monastery but elated at the thought that tomorrow he would, at long last, be with his beloved daughter.  
  
On the way back, Oibore kept an eye out for any food or drink he could scavange. He had saved a bit of Ko's rice and tofu and added to it two half- full bottles of sake he found on the street. 'This should make for a nice meal ticket,' he laughed to himself. Sure enough, when he entered Rakuninmura, his new friends were elated.  
  
"Sake!" Fat Boy and Hiro yelled in unison. Two sets of hands appeared out of nowhere to grab at the unexpected treat. It almost caused Oibore to lose hold of the food.  
  
"Maa, maa," Oibore smiled, trying to calm them down. "I also have some rice and tofu. Do you have anything to share with me?"  
  
"Sure do, old man," answered Hiro. "Fat Boy here managed to wrangle some left-over hot pot from a restaurant"---Fat Boy flexed his muscles to show how he did it--"and that farmer fellow over there found some daikon growing wild outside of town. So how was Kyoto?"  
  
Oibore recounted his adventure of the morning, mentioning the Hitokiri Battousai to see what kind of reaction he would get from his listeners. It was Fat Boy who rose to the occasion.  
  
"Yeah, I've heard of him," Fat Boy growled. "I may be a bum now, but I was a good fighter in my day. I've met some samurai who saw the Battousai in action. They say he moves faster than the eye can see, and no one survives an encounter with him. A fighter's worst nightmare, they say, or at least he was. Seems he's disappeared." He sounded distinctly disappointed at that.  
  
'So, Katsura was telling the truth about his whereabouts, at least,' Oibore mused. To Fat Boy he said, "This Battousai sounds like the stuff of legends. Maybe someday I can write down all the legends and try to sell them to parents trying to scare their children! If you hear any really good infor---I mean, stories---about him, let me know. Wouldn't it be something to actually find him!"  
  
Fat Boy laughed. "Old fool, you wouldn't want to meet him unless you're ready to die! But sure, I'll pass along anything I hear."  
  
With that, Oibore excused himself and found a place to sleep. Finding a job, the monastery, and someone who actually knew men who had seen the Battousai---he had accomplished a lot in his first day in Kyoto. He was almost too excited to sleep, but before he knew it, it was sunrise and time to head for the monastery.  
  
Japanese Terms: Maa-maa: Now, now.. Ronin: masterless wandering samurai. Tanto: small dagger. Sensei: honorific for a teacher  
  
From Co-Conspirator: On to chapter three! Oibore visits Tomoe's *sniff* grave and we get a quick glance into the Battousai/Tomoe relationship. ^_~ Don't forget to tell us what you think about the story so far, we love hearing from you! Happy Holidays!  
  
Author's Note: Thanks for the kind reviews! 


	3. Chapter 3

Tomoe's father, Yukishiro Takuo (known as Oibore), finally gets to read her diary, an act that gives new purpose to his life. MAJOR SPOILER WARNING: This chapter is my attempt to explain how Tomoe's feelings turned from vengeance to love. It's based on the manga and OAV versions of the Tomoe story in the Jinchuu arc, plus a must-read fan fiction, _Kokoro No Itami Nakumaru,_ by Hitokiri Gentatsu.

Disclaimer: All hail Watsuki-sama---he (and all the media conglomerates) own the RK characters. I won't make a dime off this…

  


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Chapter 3

The day dawned cold and blustery, an unwelcome reminder that winter was not far away. Oibore put on as many layers of clothing as he could and set out for the monastery. Now that he knew where he was going, the trip didn't seem to take long, or maybe it was just that the cold weather made him walk that much faster. 

At any rate, in less than an hour he arrived at the gates of the small monastery that Katsura had indicated on the map. It was a lovely place, with a simple but elegant gate and a beautiful view of the mountains. Oibore approached the doors, then hesitated. He had been single-minded in his drive to find this place, but he had neglected to think about what he would say once he arrived. Only once before in his life, when he proposed to his wife many years ago, had he felt so tongue-tied. Finally, he gathered up his courage and knocked on the door. An elderly monk, about the same age as Oibore, opened the door.

"Welcome, traveler," said the monk, bowing deeply. "My name is Toshiro. If you seek peace and solace, we bid you welcome and will offer our hospitality."

Oibore had never been one to think too deeply about religion, but he could not deny that there was an aura of peacefulness about the monk that made him feel somewhat less nervous about his quest. He bowed in response, handed the monk his letter of introduction from Katsura, and followed his host into the building. The monk showed Oibore to a small room with a warm fire and an altar, then said, "Our home is your home. If there is anything you wish while you are here, you only need to ask." Then he joined Oibore by the altar and proceeded to meditate.

After a short but respectful time, Oibore indicated to Toshiro that he wished to ask something. After a nod from the monk, Oibore gathered up his courage to tell him the purpose of his visit.

"Toshiro-san, my name is Yukishiro Takuo. I am told that my daughter is buried at this monastery. It would be such a comfort to my heart if I could visit her grave. Her name was Yukishiro Tomoe." 

Oibore saw a flicker of surprise in the monk's eyes. "Yes, of course," Toshiro said after a moment's hesitation. "Please follow me."

He led Oibore through the monastery to a door that opened onto a cemetery. He stopped by a small stone and said, "I believe this is the grave you seek, the grave of _Himura_ Tomoe. Am I correct?"

Oibore nodded, tears coming to his eyes.

"Her husband came here nearly every day for the past three years," Toshiro said quietly. "He has never truly recovered from her death." With that, he left Oibore alone with his thoughts.

On his walk to the monastery, Oibore had found a few wild pansies and snapdragons still in bloom, which he had carefully stored in his sleeve pocket. Now he took them out and laid them on the simple grave. Then he knelt down and placed his hand on the stone. As he did, he could see in his mind's eye a vision of his daughter. He could almost hear her quiet laugh, could almost see her walking through their garden, could almost feel her giving him a kiss. And he could almost hear in his heart her voice saying, "Father, I almost lost my soul to hatred, but instead I found happiness and love. Be happy for me."

Those words startled Oibore out of his reverie. 'Where did that thought come from?' he wondered. He looked back at the stone and placed his hands on it again. "He took my happiness from me, but he gave me a greater happiness in return," he heard her voice say. 

Now Oibore was really startled. Clearly, his daughter was talking to him---either that or he was going mad, and he was fairly sure that despite his grief, he was quite sane. "If you find him, look after him, for he gave me true happiness," her voice spoke again.

Now his tears fell upon the grave in torrents. "I've missed you so much," he sobbed. "My life has been so empty since you left home. To be with you at last has given me some peace. I will find your love, if only to thank him for giving you your happiness."

He sat there for a long while before the cold finally convinced him to return to the monastery. Just inside the doorway he found Toshiro, who seemed to have been watching the whole time. Katsura's letter lay open in his hand. 

"A father's tears break the hearts of even the gods," Toshiro said as he gently led the grief-stricken man to a small side room. He quietly brought in a tray of hot tea and rice cakes and placed it in front of Oibore. Then he placed a small black book on the tray. "Himura Kenshin entrusted this to me for safe-keeping," he continued. "I know he would have wanted you to read it." He took Oibore's hand, patted it gently, then silently left the room.

Oibore stared for a long time at the book. He knew it must be Tomoe's diary, but he was almost afraid to open it, afraid of what he might find revealed in its pages. Finally, he gathered up his courage and started reading.

"I have reached Kyoto," the first page began. "It's much bigger than Edo and scary for a woman who's traveling alone. But I've found an inn that will let me work as a waitress in return for a place to stay. It was a bit of a problem, though. It seems that my favorite scent, white plum, which is quite popular at home, is used only by geishas and worse here in Kyoto. I had to convince the innkeeper that I was not that kind of woman!" 

Oibore smiled briefly at the mental picture of Tomoe as a geisha. Not likely, he chuckled! He turned the page.

"The innkeeper, Keiko-san, certainly is keeping me busy. I don't know when I will have the time to start searching for the monster. I don't even know what he looks like! The restaurant is obviously very popular because there never seems to be an empty seat in the house. Even soldiers from the nearby barracks are frequent customers---at least, they seem to know all the waitresses by name. I'm not used to this kind of familiarity, and I find it somewhat embarrassing. They think it's funny that I blush so much."

Several entries later, he found this: 

"I am finally making some progress. There is a captain that comes here frequently who is quite friendly to me. Today I asked to speak to him before he left. I told him that I meant to avenge the murder of my fiance at the hands of the Hitokiri Battousai and asked for help in finding him. I was a little annoyed that he found this funny. 'There are about a hundred other people in line ahead of you,' is how he put it. He thinks I'm not serious, but I am, and I told him so. He finally told me that no one knows where to find the hitokiri, and they're not even sure what he looks like because no one survives an encounter with him. I know he thinks this is all very amusing, but he told me that if I ever did find the hitokiri, to remember that he is an extremely dangerous man and that instead of trying to kill him myself, I should come and find him, that he and his men would find a way to deal with him without getting killed themselves. His name is Captain Tatsumi." 

Oibore sighed. He knew his daughter was a determined girl once she set her mind on something, but secretly he had always thought she left home because she couldn't bear hearing all the catty remarks from her relatives. They never let Tomoe forget that her fiance, Kiyosato, had embarked on that crazy scheme to become a bodyguard because he wanted to impress her. He read several more entries.

"It's been three weeks already," read one of them, "and I have made no progress. Why did I come here? I am so lonely. All I have are my memories of Kiyosato and my hatred of the hitokiri. I can't go home, I have dishonored my family by coming here all by myself. It's gotten to the point that I don't even want to get out of bed in the morning. I have no friends to speak of, and at night I have found the only thing that takes away the pain is a good bottle of sake. I sound like one of those soldiers, drinking to forget."

Dishonored the family? Oibore practically lost his composure reading that. He would have taken that so-called dishonor any day if it would have meant having his daughter back. 'Oh, Tomoe, if only you hadn't worried about such a stupid notion,' he moaned silently.

The entries became shorter and shorter, and more and more infrequent, as her loneliness and despair deepened. Then he found what he was looking for.

"I have found him! I have found the monster! I was out drinking last night, and I admit I got a little sloshed. Some yakuzas or something even tried to come on to me at the bar, but a samurai managed to back them off. It was as I was walking home that I saw him. He was being attacked by a huge samurai with chains on his swords. I thought he would be killed, but instead he sliced the man in half! You know how in the plays they talk about a rain of blood? That's what it was like, and I was soaked with it. I almost threw up at the sight, and I guess I must have passed out because the next thing I knew, I was waking up in his room! He wasn't there, but I knew it was his room from the few items I saw in it. And I was wearing someone else's clothes, and I wasn't bloody anymore. I didn't remember a thing, so of course I assumed that _he_ had undressed me and washed me, and Kami-sama knows what else he might have done to me. I was mortified! I found the innkeeper---a nice lady named Okami-san---and started crying to her about what I thought happened to me. She thought that was funny! 'When you meet Himura, you'll see what I mean,' she said. She said this Himura---that must be the Hitokiri Battousai's name---carried me back to the inn last night and asked _her_ to take care of me, which she did. She apologized for not giving me a room to myself, but she says all the rooms are taken. I wonder why he didn't just kill me, like he kills everyone else. Or maybe he's not _the_ Hitokiri Battousai, but some other assassin. I told her I was new in town and looking for work, and she's offered to let me help at the inn while this big contingent of visitors is staying."

She had a second entry for the same day.

"He _is_ the Hitokiri Battousai---I heard one of the men calling him that. I thought the Hitokiri Battousai would be a huge, evil-looking man, but I was wrong. He's just a boy! He's not much taller than me, has a scar on his cheek, and has red hair, of all things! How did a mere boy do what I saw last night? Or was I so drunk that I was hallucinating? At any rate, as experienced as he may be with a sword, he obviously has no experience talking to women, or at least someone close to his age of the opposite sex! He thought I had disappeared this morning, so he came running to find me, and when I told him my name, he blushed about a hundred different shades of red. When I told him I would be working for Okami-san, he just stuttered like a flustered teenager! But when he saw some of the men leering at me (this inn is apparently the home of a lot of Ishin Shishi fighters), he warned them away from me with a voice like ice and the merest hint of going for his sword. Does that mean he thinks I'm his woman or something? I hope not! I must get a message to Captain Tatsumi!"

Oibore felt like someone who had read the end of a story before reading the beginning. Knowing already how this story would turn out, he found his heart breaking as he saw the first strands being spun of a tragic spider's web, a web that would slowly entangle his daughter and this boy and lead them to a sad, inescapable conclusion. 

"I told Okami-san today that I had to go collect my things from where I was staying before," the next entry read. "Really, I wanted to get to the other inn by the time I knew Captain Tatsumi usually arrived. Sure enough, I found him and told him my news. He says that was the Bakufu's most experienced and deadly assassin that I saw the Battousai kill the other night, and they can't figure out how he did it. They want me to get friendly with him to try to find his weaknesses. Then they can devise a plan that will kill him without killing themselves in the process. I told them he was just a boy, but they said he must be the boy from hell if he could do what he did!"

"If this is the boy from hell, then hell must be a strange place," read the following day's entry. "He is painfully shy, not just with me, but even with the other men. At meals, he sits by himself, rarely says anything to anybody, then quietly leaves to go to his room. When they start bragging about all their exploits, he just gives them this incredibly sad look, then turns the other way. I thought he would be the biggest braggart of them all. And what does an assassin do with his spare time? I went to my room, which is really his room, to get something and found him there playing with a top! He actually managed to say a few things to me without getting tongue-tied. I found out he's 15, not much older than Enishi. His eyes are the most beautiful shade of violet, but so sad, like the weight of the world rests in them. He seemed relieved that I wasn't planning to spend time in the room. Since I've been here, he has yet to even sleep in the room when I'm there. Okami-san says he's been sleeping in the hall just outside the door."

A few days later, Tomoe wrote, "Life has settled into a routine here. I help in the kitchen and serve at mealtimes, do some of the food shopping, and help Okami-san with flower arranging and mending. I was somewhat startled today, though, when I went to get water from the well. As I was hauling up the bucket, suddenly who should appear to help me but Himura!"

Oibore's eyebrows shot up. 'So it's Himura now, instead of Battousai or monster,' he noted.

"He simply said, 'Let me help you with that," the entry continued. "Then he gave me a small smile and proceeded to carry the bucket into the kitchen! He was so polite---he always calls me Tomoe-san—-that I found myself calling him Himura-san back. The other girls were quite astonished to see all this because he doesn't do this for them. Okami-san says he used to help in the kitchen when he first came a year ago, but he hasn't done that for several months. 

"He left the kitchen so quickly that I had to run after him to thank him. That's when I saw that oily-looking man, the one with the thin mustache, handing him a black envelope. When Himura took it, everything changed. First his eyes looked sadder than usual, then they turned this strange gold color, and suddenly he seemed positively cold. Without a word, he turned and just walked away. The man saw me standing there and told me he had just given Himura a 'job' for tonight. 'You won't see him again until tomorrow probably,' he told me, and he was right."

Oibore could see Tomoe's heart starting to soften towards her fiance's killer, but still he hadn't found just what made her change from a woman after vengeance to a woman in love. The next day's entry changed that.

"Last night I decided to wait up for Himura to see what he was like after killing people. After the past few days, I'm having trouble reconciling my original impression of an assassin as a heartless monster with this extremely kind and polite boy. What I saw didn't help. In the wee hours of the morning I heard someone rattling around in the kitchen, so I threw something over my yukata and went downstairs, only to find him washing his hands over and over and over again. He had this look of anguish on his face, as if he were repulsed by what he had done. When he saw me standing there, his eyes went wide; they were violet again, not that strange gold. I asked if he intended to keep on killing like this. He gave me the most sorrowful glance, then looked away. It almost broke my heart.

"I didn't see him for the rest of the day, not even at mealtimes. Then, this evening, while I was doing some mending, who should come to see me but Katsura Kogoro himself---the leader of the Chousu Ishin Shishi. Everyone thinks I'm Himura's woman, I guess, because he wanted me to understand just what Himura's job is. He told me how the Tokugawa rule had driven men to madness, and that to build a new age they have to turn to another kind of madness, and that Himura is fulfilling the harshest role by giving out what he calls 'extreme justice.' Now I understand what's going on. They need to kill in order to bring about their new age, but they won't do it themselves. Instead they take a kind and sweet boy who happens to be talented with a sword and make him do it for them! Maybe I was wrong---maybe it's not Himura who is the monster, maybe it's really Katsura Kogoro."

"What's happening to me?" Tomoe wrote the next day. "This morning, when I was walking to the well to get some water, he came and asked if he could help, and my heart started to flutter like a schoolgirl's! I admit that I really missed seeing him and hearing his voice yesterday---in fact, I realize that I have secretly been looking forward to the small encounters we have at the inn. But this is the man who killed my fiance! And, yes, he is a man, not a boy; no mere boy could carry the burden this war has placed on his shoulders. 

"After lunch, I found him napping by a window. He sleeps sitting up and clutching his sword. I tried to remind myself that I'm supposed to get revenge, that it would be so easy to take my tanto and kill him now, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, I found myself thinking he'll catch his death of cold from the cool breeze outside. So I took my shawl and tried to cover him with it. In less than a breath, he was awake and had his sword at my throat! I didn't even have time to think! Then he dropped his sword and practically ran to the other side of the room. He kept muttering, 'I almost killed you, I almost killed you!' and 'I'd never kill you, never!' I apologized for startling him, that I just wanted to make sure he didn't catch cold, but he said he wasn't worth worrying about, he probably wouldn't live much longer anyway. I was shocked to hear someone almost my age talk like that, like there is no future, but isn't that the way I myself felt just a few months ago? That's when I realized he and I are an awful lot alike---we're both lost souls, both so lonely and hurt. We talked a bit after that, and that seemed to lighten his mood. It gave me the idea to suggest that I be a kind of sheath for him, something to protect him from his dangerous side. His first name is Kenshin."

The entries now described a growing friendship between Oibore's daughter and Kenshin, how he started sleeping in a far corner of her room instead of outside her door, how she would wait up for him at night if he was 'working.' He told her why he had joined the Ishin Shishi and how it seemed that all the killings hadn't brought the new era of peace any closer. Then came the final act of the story, the sudden departure from Kyoto.

"We have been forced to flee Kyoto," Tomoe wrote. "I don't understand all the politics, but many members of the the Chousu clan were killed a few weeks ago by the Shinsengumi, and now the Chousu have lost a battle with the Bakufu. The inn has burned down, and we have nowhere to live. Katsura-sama says all of us must go into hiding. He suggested that Kenshin and I pretend to be husband and wife and go live in Otsu, where there is a safe house. He said there were spies among the Chousu, so it wasn't safe to stay in Kyoto any longer. That sent a bolt of lightening through my stomach. That couldn't be me he was talking about! I haven't even thought of Captain Tatsumi in weeks, and I pray to all the gods that he has totally forgotten about me! Kenshin said we didn't have to pretend, we could marry for real, but how could I do that when I've been hiding such a horrible secret? 

"Still, here we are in Otsu, setting up our household. It's been three days now. Kenshin was very tense and on alert our first two days here, but he is starting to relax a little. Perhaps we are truly safe. He has been so considerate of me in this flight, making sure I didn't tire too much on the long walk here, helping me find and prepare food for our meals, making sure this little farmhouse is comfortable for us both. It's as if we really were married, except that he still sleeps in the corner, and I'm on a futon by myself. I feel so at peace here, except for the pangs of guilt I have about my secret. But how can I tell him that when I met him, all I wanted was his death? That all I want now is to be with him and keep him safe?"

The diary now became a record of a happy young couple going about their lives as they grew a garden, sold medicine to the local people, and learned to live with one another.

"These past few weeks have been so wonderful," Tomoe wrote one day. "Kenshin seems to have a green thumb, because our garden is thriving. He says it's because his family were farmers. He told me it made him feel so good to bring plants to life, instead of taking lives. His other great pleasure is playing with the local children. A few of them discovered us not long after we moved here, and they seemed to be instantly drawn to Kenshin. He, for his part, enjoys their company and has invented games to play with them. He would be a wonderful father. They say that children can sense things about grown-ups that grown-ups never see. I think they can tell that Kenshin is no killer, at least not in his heart."

Now Oibore was near the end of the diary. He dreaded reading what might come next, but didn't expect what he found.

"Enishi came to visit today! I was so surprised, especially since no one is supposed to know where we are. He has certainly grown in the year since I left home! But my joy didn't last long. Seems he was sent by Captain Tatsumi, who wants me to meet him tomorrow at a shrine in the forest. How did he know where we were? Is there still a Chousu spy? Because only one or two people know where to find us. Enishi couldn't understand why I wasn't overjoyed at the prospect of Kenshin's death. I told him he should never have left Father alone in Edo, and that he should go back right away. He was well on his way to a tantrum when Kenshin walked in. Enishi nearly bit his head off, then stormed out of the house.

"At dinner last night, I decided I had to tell Kenshin something about who I was and why I came to Kyoto, though I didn't tell him it was the Battousai who killed Kiyosato, and I couldn't tell him that I had entered into a plot…. I don't even want to think about that! He just held me close and let me cry. Then he told me how he left his shishou because he thought he could help end the conflict and bring an era of peace, but all the killing they made him do started destroying his soul. He said if he hadn't met me he would have gone insane, that I saved him by showing him what happiness really was. Then he promised that when the war was over, he would find a way to protect people without having to kill, that this would help him atone for all the killing he's done. Maybe our flight to Otsu has been the best thing that's happened to either of us." 

Then came the last page. Oibore forced himself to read it through his tears.

"The fates have played a strange trick on me. I was so happy when Kiyosato asked me to marry him---after all, we had known each other since childhood. But the happiness I have now with Kenshin---his killer---is even greater. What could I have offered Kiyosato? My ability to keep house? Bear children? Deep down I could never understand why he wanted to marry me except that we had known each other for so long. But Kenshin loves me for who I am, for making him happy, for healing his wounded soul. And I love him for his kindness, his thoughtfulness---he is my rock, my anchor. He is so noble when he doesn't have to kill. I will never forgive Katsura-sama for what he has done to Kenshin. After I wrote in this diary last night, as we sat by the fire, I looked at my love and realized that I would do anything to protect him, just as he has promised to protect me. I decided that in the morning---this morning---I would find Captain Tatsumi and try to prevent him from killing Kenshin, even if it means giving up my own life. Then, the next thing I knew I was in his arms and, well, we are truly husband and wife now, in every way. My happiness is complete. He is sleeping so peacefully now. I can't bear to leave him, but I must. I must save his life. Kenshin must not die here!"

Oibore slowly closed the book and pressed it to his chest. All his questions were answered. His daughter truly had found happiness with this young man, and she in turn had saved the young man's soul. He decided then and there that whatever it took, he would do what he had heard his daughter ask of him—to find this young man and thank him for giving his daughter happiness.

As he left the small room, he noted with surprise that it was already late afternoon. He went to look for Toshiro and found him cooking. 

"Ah, Yukishiro-san," said the smiling monk, "come join me for some miso soup." 

The smell of cooking reminded Oibore that he was hungry, so he gratefully accepted the offer. After they had eaten a little, Toshiro turned to him and said, "Now you understand, ne?"

Oibore shook his head yes. "Toshiro-san," Oibore said, "I must find this young man, if only to thank him for giving my daughter happiness. When he left his diary with you, did he tell you where he was going?"

"No," Toshiro replied. Then, seeing how crestfallen Oibore looked, he quickly added, "I have heard from friends in the countryside that someone matching Himura-kun's description has been in the area of Yasuo, a small village to the east. It seems a group of nuns were taking some orphans from Kyoto to the village when they were waylaid by some bandits. He came to their aid, then accompanied them for the rest of their journey to keep them safe. But that was several months ago. No one knows where he went after that."

It was time to go; nightfall was approaching, and Oibore still didn't want to walk the streets after dark by himself. He thanked Toshiro profusely for all his kindnesses, then left to return to Rakuninmura. 

When he arrived, his friends Hiro and Fat Boy came to greet him, hoping for another great handout of food and drink, but this time Oibore was empty-handed. Fat Boy was just about to complain when Hiro held him back.

"Let him be," Hiro said, seeing the sadness in Oibore's face. "Can't you tell he's had a rough day?"

Oibore silently thanked him with his eyes, then went off to be alone with his thoughts.

Japanese terms:

Yukata: light sleeping jacket.

Chousu Ishin Shishi: name for anti-Shogun faction from Chousu province.

-kun: denotes a child or someone much younger than the speaker.

Tanto: small dagger.

Bakufu: name of the Shogunate government.

Shishou: master teacher of swordsmanship


	4. Chapter 4

Will Tomoe's father, Yukishiro Takuo (who goes by the name "Oibore," or "Old Fool") ever find his son-in-law, Himura Kenshin? The search begins. 

MAJOR SPOILER WARNING: This story is based on the manga and OAV versions of the Tomoe story, the manga version of the Jinchuu arc, and a great fanfic by Hitokiri Gentatsu, entitled _Kokoro No Itami Nakunaru Made Zutto: Sanctuary_.

Disclaimer: All hail Watsuki-sama---he (and all the media conglomerates) own the RK characters. I won't make a dime off this….

****

Chapter 4

Oibore awoke the next morning to the tantalizing smell of food and the unsettling feeling that someone was hovering just outside the entrance to his small lean-to. Considering the number of unsavory characters that tended to congregate in places like Rakuninmura, he decided to be cautious, so he very carefully took a peek outside. What he saw couldn't have surprised him more than if he had found himself in the emperor's own palace---it was a small plate of cooked fish and rice, with Hiro guarding it against a circle of jealous men.

"Good thing you're up, old man," Hiro growled, "'cause I'm not sure how much longer I could've held off this riff-raff!"

Oibore quickly held aside the cloth covering his lean-to to let Hiro in. "And stay out!" Hiro yelled over his shoulder as he quickly pushed the plate and himself inside.

"We figured you was hungry when you got back last night," he said as he had settled himself into what little space he could find. "I could tell you had a rough day yesterday, so me and Fat Boy saved you a little something."

Oibore had a sneaking suspicion that this probably had not been Fat Boy's idea, but still he thanked Hiro profusely. Then, as was customary in the land of the destitute, he immediately offered half the food to his friend. He knew, of course, that Hiro was probably dying to know what had happened yesterday to put Oibore into such a sad mood---for inhabitants of places like Rakuninmura, tales of anyone's daily exploits were valuable commodities to be savored. 'What have I got to lose?' he thought to himself, so he looked up at his new friend and said, "Hiro, I didn't come to Kyoto just for a change of scenery, you know."

"Hah---I knew that," Hiro guffawed. "No one in his right mind would come to Kyoto nowadays just for that!"

Oibore chuckled, then turned serious again. He decided he'd tell some of his story, but he still wasn't comfortable telling it all. 

"Back in Edo, I had a family once," he began. "My wife died many years ago, but I had a daughter, a son…. Then four years ago, my daughter disappeared, and my son left to look for her. My family was gone, just like that. I remember you telling us how you lost your family, so you know what I went through. But just a few weeks ago, I found out my daughter died in Kyoto and that she was buried here. Yesterday, I found her grave. I feel like I'm not so alone anymore."

Hiro's face was unreadable, but his eyes flickered briefly with his own grief as he nodded his head in response.

"But enough of this sad stuff," Oibore said, smiling despite a hint of tears in his eyes. "You know what else happened? I've found my first student---the young son of a greengrocer!" 

"Hmpf," Hiro replied. "Guess that means you'll be leaving this dump."

Before Oibore could answer, Fat Boy poked his head in. Blunt as usual, he barked, "You still want Battousai stories? Got any food left?"

"Battousai stories?" Oibore repeated. Oh, yes, he had mentioned something the other day about writing up a book of legends, hadn't he. After reading Tomoe's diary, though, the thought of writing tall tales about this man seemed a bit disrespectful. On the other hand, what better way to find people who may have information about him or his whereabouts? So, as he handed his friend what little food was left over, he said, "What have you got for me?"

In response, Fat Boy motioned outside, then led Oibore and Hiro down towards a small cooking fire. "Him," said Fat Boy, pointing to a one-handed man. "Name's Ichiro. Says he fought alongside the Battousai." 

Ichiro appeared to be in his '30s, with the constantly shifting eyes and tense reflexes of a soldier, though he didn't appear to be a samurai. From the look of his wound, the loss of his hand had been fairly recent. Fat Boy kicked him and said, "This here's the guy interested in you."

Anger glinted in Ichiro's otherwise dull eyes.

"Maa, maa," Oibore said as he bowed. He hoped his courtesy would calm the man's anger. "Please forgive my companion. I'm just an old man who's got the silly notion to write a book of legends about the Battousai. Anything you'd care to share with me? What he looks like, things he said or did….?"

Ichiro stiffly bowed back, his anger dissipating somewhat. "Yeah, I fought with the Ishin Shishi at Toba Fushimi," he said slowly. "I was right there with the Battousai. Kind of a short, scrawny-looking guy, real young, too, with that red hair everyone talks about. Always wore this sort of girly blue scarf around his neck."

'The blue scarf Tomoe always wore!' Oibore thought excitedly, although his face remained impassive.

"And before every battle he'd touch that X scar on his cheek and say some kind of incantation, something like 'Tomomomo' or something." 

'Tomoe's name!' Oibore guessed even more excitedly. 

"We all figured that incantation was how he got that godlike speed he had---I swear he could move faster than the blink of an eye. We all tried that incantation, just for good luck." Waving his stump, he muttered, "Didn't do me much good, did it."

This was a proud man come upon hard times, Oibore sensed. He decided he'd bring the man some token of appreciation later, when it wouldn't embarrass him. 

"War is a difficult thing that always leaves misery in its wake," Oibore finally said to the unfortunate soldier. "Still, you have helped to bring a new era to Japan, a most honorable undertaking. I will be sure to treat your story with the honor it deserves when I write this book."

Ichiro's dull eyes showed flickers of pride. He bowed. "Thank you," he said simply.

Oibore could hardly contain his excitement at the new information. It appeared that this Himura fellow really did love his Tomoe. It stiffened his resolve to find the swordsman, whatever it took. To his friends, however, he remained as calm and smiling as ever.

"Well," he said to Hiro and Fat Boy as they walked back to his lean-to, "I now know that the Battousai was not only short and scrawny, but according to the greengrocer I met, he was also seven feet tall with arms like trees. This should be an interesting book to write!"

It was now getting towards mid-morning, so Oibore set off to find the greengrocer who had promised him the teaching job. This time he knew to avoid the refugee area, with its unruly gangs of children, so he managed to arrive at the marketplace without incident. He worried briefly that the greengrocer might have forgotten who he was, but he needn't have worried. No sooner was he within about twenty feet of the shop than he heard, "Oi! Oibore-sensei! Good to see 'ya!" The next thing he knew, Ko the Greengrocer had a big arm around the old man's shoulders to steer him into the store.

"Ko-san, once again you honor me," the flustered Oibore managed to say. He hadn't expected such familiarity just yet; after all, the two had barely met only a few days ago. "I've come to make arrangements to teach your son…."

"Of course, of course!" the grocer said. "I'm just so enthusiastic about finding a teacher for my eldest son. That's him over there. His name's Ryoma---named him after the great statesman, you know, so he'll become a great man."

Oibore glanced over in the direction the grocer pointed to and saw a 9-year-old boy practically asleep on his feet. Ko noted a somewhat quizzical look on Oibore's face. 

"Hey, Ryoma, wake up, here's your new sensei!" he shouted as he grabbed his son to shake him. Turning to Oibore, he added, "Don't worry about him. He's a night owl. He'll be a lot more attentive after lunch."

The two men discussed what needed to be taught, how much Oibore would be paid, and what time of day the lessons would take place. "I think after lunch, don't you?" Ko said.

This suited Oibore just fine, for he hoped to start every day by visiting Tomoe's grave at the monastery---that's what was most important to him. He knew he wouldn't make much money teaching his one student, but it would be enough to buy some food and perhaps rent a small room at a rooming house. Already he felt happier than he had in a very long time.

And so Oibore started his new life in Kyoto. After rising and sharing a small meal with Hiro and Fat Boy, he would make his way to the monastery to be at Tomoe's side. He and the monk Toshiro soon became good friends. Toshiro was the only person in Kyoto who knew Oibore's real name, and he insisted on calling Oibore Yukishiro-san, then eventually Takuo. After having used the name Oibore for the last four years, it sounded rather strange to hear his true name, but coming from this gentle monk, it sounded rather nice. It didn't take long before the two made a habit of ending his visits with a short tea ceremony.

After the morning visit, Oibore would then go to Ko's shop to teach little Ryoma, who turned out to be more interested in raising a ruckus than raising his intellect. He soon found himself brushing off his old samurai physical fitness training as a way to harness the boy's abundant energy, with the result that he himself began to feel much more energetic. There were days, however, when he thought perhaps he should try teaching the little demon in the morning, when the boy was still half-asleep!

Ko, being the outgoing merchant that he was, bragged so much about his son's teacher that he found two other students for Oibore. And it was Ko who also found nearly a dozen men with Battousai stories to tell. Most stories were truly unbelievable—-that the Battousai could draw lightening from the sky with his katana; that he was really a demon from the underworld, with eyes of fire instead of human eyes---but some stories held kernels of truth. Within a year, Oibore had enough to write a slim volume of legends. It was Ko, of course, who knew someone who knew someone who could print the book and sell it. Soon Oibore was actually making a little money, but he was still no closer to learning the whereabouts of his son-in-law, Himura Kenshin.

It was during his second spring in Kyoto that his luck changed. It had been a beautiful morning, and he had found some early spring flowers to place on Tomoe's grave. As was his custom, when he was done sitting by the grave he went up to the monastery to have tea with Toshiro. Today, however, Toshiro was not his usual calm self. He practically ran to get the tea tray and seemed absolutely fidgety while drinking his tea. What should have been a calming ceremony turned Oibore into a nervous wreck.

"Toshiro, take it easy!" Oibore finally said. "Whatever has gotten into you today?" 

Toshiro insisted on completing the entire tea ceremony, then practically burst out, "Takuo, I have the most wonderful news! A brother monk has met your son-in-law!"

"What? Where----when?" 

"You know how the new government is closing monasteries out in the countryside," Toshiro said. "Well, many of the monks have been writing here to tell us where they are going so we won't lose touch with each other. There is a young monk named Haishidiya. Shortly before he and his brothers were to leave their monastery, he came upon a red-haired samurai with what appeared to be a serious self-inflicted wound. He took the man in, nursed him until he could travel, then took him to his old home in Aizu."

"Aizu?" Oibore repeated. "But that was one of the most pro-Shogun provinces in the country! If this was truly Himura Kenshin, Aizu would have been the most dangerous place he could be!"

"Precisely," replied Toshiro, "except that Haishidiya-san didn't realize until after they had arrived in Aizu that the man he had saved was the Hitokiri Battousai. You can read the whole letter later, if you wish, but I can tell you that Haishidiya-san said this was a man searching desperately for peace within his soul, for a way to atone for all the lives he had taken during the Bakumatsu. It seems, however, that no matter where he went, his reputation as a hitokiri would precede him. In fact, there was an incident while he was in Aizu—-he was attacked by former Bakufu samurai."

Oibore was almost afraid to ask, but he said, "Is he still there with your friend?"

"No," replied Toshiro. "Apparently he felt he would put Haishidiya-san in danger if he stayed, so once he recovered from the attack, he left. "

"Aizu isn't far, even for an old man like me," Oibore mused. "Do you think Haishidiya-san would allow me to visit?"

Toshiro nodded enthusiastically, then wrote a letter of introduction for him. 

Oibore couldn't believe his luck---he would actually be able to talk to someone who had met and gotten to know his elusive son-in-law. As soon as he finished teaching young Ryoma that afternoon, he went to talk to Ko about taking some time away. But how to explain his trip? No one but Toshiro knew why Oibore had such a profound interest in the Hitokiri Battousai, and considering Ko's congenitally loose lips, Oibore wasn't about to tell Ko! Then he remembered that one of Ko's produce suppliers came from Aizu; perhaps he could wrangle a trip there and back with the supplier as a buyer for Ko. Ko thought it was a great idea, gave him a list of specific vegetables to look for, and sent him on his way just three days later.

The trip to Aizu only took a day and a half, then another half-day to find the home of Haishidiya. Finally, Oibore found the small house and knocked at the gate. A young man in his early '20s answered. 

"I am looking for the monk Haishidiya," Oibore said rather nervously. "My name is Yukishiro Takuo, a friend of the monk Toshiro, of Kyoto."

The young man registered some surprise but welcomed the old man in. "I am Haishidiya," the young man answered, his voice showing concern. "Is Toshiro-sama ill? Has the government closed his monastery as well?" 

"Oh, no, nothing like that!" Oibore quickly replied. "I am just a friend of his. He gave me this letter to give to you."

Haishidiya led Oibore in to the main room of the house. As water boiled for tea, they sat quietly while the young man read the letter, which explained why Oibore had come and briefly outlined the story of Tomoe and Kenshin. When he had finished reading, he quickly made some tea and poured a cup for himself and his guest. 

Oibore broke the silence. "Haishidiya-san, my daughter meant the world to me. When I visited her grave in Kyoto the first time, it was as if she were talking to me. She wanted me to find the man who gave her happiness—-Himura Kenshin. As far as anyone in Kyoto knows, Himura-san has disappeared from the face of the earth. But you have seen him, you have talked to him, you have been with him. Please, tell me what my son-in-law is like." 

Haishidiya sipped pensively for several minutes, collecting his thoughts. Then he looked up at his guest and said, "The war has claimed many victims, Yukishiro-san, but not all of them are dead. Himura-san is as much a victim of the war as those who were killed. At heart he is a kind, gentle, and peace-loving man, but within him also resides the cold-blooded killer he was forced to become during the war. His soul has been in torment as his true nature tries to cope with the many deaths he caused."

"Is that why he tried to end his life?" Oibore asked.

"He never really spoke about it," Haishidiya responded, "but yes, I believe it was a deep despair that caused him to try to take his life. After he recovered from his wound, he asked me to teach him the ways of meditation and Buddhism, and I think that, perhaps for the first time in his life, he truly found some peace. At least, he found peace until he was attacked. I'm sorry to say that his reputation as the most feared swordsman in Japan preceded him, and it's awfully hard to travel incognito when you have red hair! It's a situation I'm afraid he will face no matter where he goes. Still, he has come to realize that there is no atonement in death, but only in having the courage to live a good and just life."

"Did he ever say anything about his time with my daughter in Otsu?" Oibore asked.

The young monk thought a moment, then replied, "He was a very private man---he kept everything very much to himself. Not long before he was attacked, however, I remember him saying he had not felt such calm and peace since living in Otsu. I didn't know at the time what he meant by that, but it clearly held a great deal of importance for him."

Haishidiya then got up to fetch something from a small cabinet---a woman's decorative hairpin. Oibore let out a small gasp when he saw it. "That was Tomoe's," he whispered as he carefully took it in his hands.

"While Himura-san was here, we often talked about the importance of enjoying life today and not dwelling on the bloody past," Haishidiya said. "Perhaps that's why he left this here. He was not one to forget anything, so I assumed he left it here on purpose." He held the pin out to Oibore, who took it and pinned it to the trim of his gi. 

"Thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart," Oibore said. Then, after chatting briefly about Toshiro and Kyoto, he left to meet up again with the merchants for the trip home.

Time once again moved on with nary a word of Kenshin's whereabouts except from Fat Boy, who had decided to wander again and came back with news that Kenshin had lived briefly in Hokkaido. Hokkaido being about as far away from Kyoto as one could get in Japan, Oibore figured there was probably no chance in the world that he would ever get to meet his son-in-law. Nevertheless, he found himself leading a fairly contented life. He continued his daily trips to the monastery, though sometimes, he had to admit, it was more to have tea with Toshiro than to visit Tomoe's grave. As Ryoma outgrew his need for a teacher, Oibore began teaching the boy's younger brother as well as the siblings of his other students. His book of legends continued to be popular, so he had a bit of extra income, which he used to bring at least one good meal a week to share with the inhabitants of Rakuninmura. As for his friends Hiro and Fat Boy, they both saw how Oibore managed to survive in the world and decided they, too, should try. Fat Boy decided to give up wandering and settled in Kyoto to work as a laborer. Hiro ended up working at a shop not far from Ko's and rented a room in the same rooming house as Oibore. If life gave him nothing more than this small circle of good friends, Oibore figured, he would be content.

But life has a way of surprising people, even late in life. It was eight years later, in mid-May of 1878, when Ko came running over to Oibore's rooming house, practically knocking down the door to his room as he banged on it. 

"Oibore," Ko practically exploded as the surprised old man opened the door, "I have just heard the most unbelievable news! The Hitokiri Battousai is alive and well and living in Tokyo!"

"What?" 

"My brother-in-law---he lives in Tokyo," Ko rattled on excitedly. "We just got a letter, and he's got some great Battousai tales for you to add to your book! Seems this short, red-headed swordsman with an X on his cheek took on the sword-wielding police in Tokyo because they were terrorizing the locals, and he got them to back down! And then he helped the Tokyo police capture some big drug lord! It was him---he's positive---and he's been there for at least three months!"

Oibore couldn't believe his ears. "He's still there? He's living there now?"

"Yes, yes!" Ko could hardly contain his excitement. "He's living at some dojo!"

Oibore knew it was time to tell his now long-time friend the truth of his identity, for he knew this was the only way he would be able to explain his need to leave immediately for Tokyo.

"Ko-san, we've known each other now for 10 years, and not once have you ever asked what my true name is," Oibore began. "Do you remember in my book of legends, there is a story about the incantation the Battousai supposedly uttered before entering battle? Something like 'Tomomomo?' What he was really saying was the name Tomoe, the name of his wife, Yukishiro Tomoe. I am Tomoe's father---Yukishiro Takuo."

Ko's mouth dropped so low Oibore could have scraped it off the floor. 

"My daughter was killed accidently during the Bakumatsu. I learned just before I moved to Kyoto that she was buried at the monastery I visit every day, and that they had her diary. That's why I came to Kyoto 10 years ago. I have read her diary—-it is the saddest tale. When I arrived in Kyoto, the Hitokiri Battousai had only recently been fighting here, and I didn't know if people knew of my daughter's association with him. I had called myself Oibore for years in Edo, so I just kept up the habit here, and…. I'm sorry I never told you before."

"Well! I'll be!" For once, Ko was speechless. Then he clasped his friend about the shoulders and said, "You ought to go to Tokyo, then, and I know just how you'll do it, too!"

The next thing Oibore knew, he was being dragged bodily by Ko to the home of the owner of a fabric shop not far from Ko's grocery store. It didn't take Ko long to convince the man that he needed Oibore to accompany a small caravan of silk dealers to Tokyo to make sure they didn't shortchange his order. The shopkeeper even added an extra job of having Oibore buy some of the latest merchandise to bring back to Kyoto. "And I'm not going to tell him why you're really going," added Ko as they left. "I figure it took you 10 years to tell me, so maybe I should wait 10 years to tell everyone else!" A very surprised Oibore heaved a very large sigh of relief at that news. 

It took nearly two weeks to make all the arrangements, but finally, by the end of May, Oibore was on the Tokaido Road with the silk dealers. He couldn't believe it—-in a week or so, he would finally get to meet the man who had given his daughter her happiness---Himura Kenshin.

Japanese terms:

Rakuninmura: the home of the homeless.

Maa-maa: 'Now, now… ."

Ishin Shishi: nickname for the anti-Shogun forces.

Sensei: honorific for a teacher.

Katana: long sword.

Bakumatsu: the Japanese civil war

Bakufu: name for the Shogunate government

Hitokiri: assassin.

Author's Note: Thank you, thank you for the reviews---I was beginning to feel a bit lonely out here! Your reviews were so wonderful, I hope I don't disappoint…. If anyone's interested in reading what one fanfic writer thinks Kenshin was doing in Hokkaido, read Calger459's _An Inn in Hokkaido_---a great story! 

CoConspirator: Alright, we're finally off to Tokyo! *hides behind Saitoh poster* You guys are going to hate us for what happens next (it wasn't my idea, I swear!) but it will get better, we promise!! Well, *swallows nervously* onward we go! 

(Note from Conspirator: CoConspirator is the original night owl!)


	5. chapter 5

At long last Oibore (Tomoe's father Yukishiro Takuo) arrives in Tokyo. Will he finally get to meet Kenshin?

MAJOR SPOILER WARNING: This story is based on the manga and OAV versions of the Tomoe story, on the manga and anime versions of the Kyoto arc, and on the manga version of the Jinchuu arc. 

Disclaimer: All hail Watsuki-sama---he (and all the media conglomerates) own the RK characters. I won't make a dime off this….

****

In Search of Family

Chapter 5

'What am I going to say to the man when I meet him?'

This was the thought that had consumed nearly all of Oibore's waking hours during what turned out to be a very long trip from Kyoto to Tokyo. True, he was lucky enough to be riding in a wagon with the silk merchants most of the way, rather than walking as he normally would. And true, the Tokaido Road was not nearly as busy as it had been 10 years ago, now that people with enough money could ride the train instead. The merchants, however, seemed to have business at nearly every one of the 55 stations on the road, so what should have taken only about seven days was stretching to close to two weeks.

'So, what _will_ I say to him when I find him?' 

If this had been 10 years ago, it would have been simple. Kenshin would have been about 18, and to have the father-in-law of his late wife show up would not be totally unexpected. In fact, despite the guilt Kenshin clearly felt about Tomoe's death, it might have been somewhat comforting, considering that Oibore was offering him forgiveness.

But now Kenshin would be about 28 years old---a full-grown, mature man, not a young adult still unsure of himself. He remembered from his talk with the monk in Aizu eight years ago that Kenshin was a very private man, and as Toshiro reminded him before he left, it was entirely possible that Kenshin might not have told anyone about his marriage at all. For all he knew, Kenshin might have married again. What would his reaction be at meeting Oibore now? And what was Kenshin like now? Had he ever succeeded in reconciling his true self with his bloody past? What if he, like so many other veterans of the Bakumatsu, had just given up and become a hard, bitter man? 'That, I think would break my heart,' Oibore thought.

It seemed like an eternity, but finally Oibore and the silk merchants reached the outskirts of Tokyo. That's when it really struck him how much had changed since he had left 10 years ago. It wasn't just that the city's name had changed from Edo to Tokyo, but he was quite sure that what was now the edge of the city used to be a small, sparsely populated rural village. As his caravan made its way further into the city, he saw several Western-style buildings, not to mention many Westerners themselves, something that was hardly ever seen when he lived there. Finally, they stopped near a rather new-looking market area, where he found an inexpensive inn for lodging. The merchants were planning to return to Kyoto in two weeks, which would give Oibore plenty of time to get to know his son-in-law and conduct all the business Ko's merchant friend had asked him to do.

And what to do first? For Oibore, there was no question---finding Kenshin was at the top of his list. All he knew, however, was what Ko's brother-in-law had written, that Kenshin lived at some unnamed dojo in Tokyo. In a city of a half-million people, how was he supposed to find the one dojo among the dozens and dozens that surely existed in every quarter of the city? The solution, he decided, was to combine the two ventures.

So it was that the next day he accompanied the silk merchants to their first stop, a silk wholesaler. As he was looking for the particular patterns Ko's friend wanted him to buy, he struck up a conversation with one of the sales clerks.

"I used to live in Tokyo, long ago when it was called Edo," Oibore began as he wandered slowly among bolts of fabric. "The city certainly has changed."

"Oh, yes, much bigger, much livelier," replied the clerk.

"Livelier?" laughed Oibore. "Why, I've heard it's so lively that the police have captured drug lords here, and that the sword-wielding police are scaring everyone!"

"You've heard about that all the way to Kyoto?" the man said incredulously. "It must be because that swordsman was involved---you know, the one they say was the Hitokiri Battousai."

"Hitokiri Battousai?" Oibore repeated. "Not the one who terrified Kyoto during the Bakumatsu?"

"Oh, yes," the clerk replied, warming to the subject. "They say he's not a killer anymore, but he certainly took care of that drug lord, not to mention that thug who tried to assassinate a local official not long ago. Don't know whether I'd like to meet him or not, if you know what I mean. Anyway, he lives in some other neighborhood."

"So he actually lives in Tokyo?" Oibore said casually as he continued to finger the various bolts of fabric. 

"Well, somewhere in the city, at any rate," said the clerk. "Supposedly he lives at a dojo that's owned by some girl, of all things. I think the name's Kamiriya or something. Boy, I wouldn't want to be her, what with a former hitokiri under my roof!"

Kamiriya! A clue! Oibore decided it would only be right to thank the clerk by making a purchase, so he bought a bolt of royal blue silk embroidered with beautiful apple blossoms and butterflies, and had it sent to his room at the inn. Then he told his traveling companions that it was time for him to strike out on his own errands for the rest of the day---the errand, of course, being to find the Kamiriya dojo.

Oibore decided the best way to find a dojo was to ask at a dojo, so he started walking through the nearby neighborhoods looking for any dojo. He stopped at the first one he found and knocked at the gate. A rather unfriendly man answered.

"Excuse me," Oibore said, bowing politely, "I am a visitor to Tokyo, looking for the Kamiriya dojo."

"Kamiriya? Huh!" the man snorted. "Never heard of it. Go ask at the dojo six blocks from here. They're real gossips, they know everyone." He pointed to the east.

Oibore thanked the man and walked off in the direction he indicated. When he found the second dojo, he knocked once again and said, "Excuse me, I am a visitor to Tokyo, looking for the Kamiriya dojo. Would you know where to find it?"

This time it was a middle-aged woman who answered the knock. "Kamiriya?" she repeated. She thought for a moment. "You must mean Kamiya---Kamiya Kasshin Ryu. But Kamiya-san died a few years ago. His daughter is trying to run it now, but who ever heard of a female kendo master? Really, girls these days!"

"Ah, yes, that's it, Kamiya," Oibore said. "I'm such an old man I garbled the name. Could you tell me where to find it? Friends in Kyoto have sent me with a message."

She looked at the old man standing in front of her and said, with concern in her voice, "Ojiisan, I regret to tell you, but it's way on the other side of the city---a very long walk. I don't know the exact address, but I do know it's near the bend in the river, about half-way between the small marketplace near the bend and a restaurant called the Akabeko. If you keep walking east, you're bound to find it."

Oibore's mind was willing, but his feet were telling him to save the trip for tomorrow. 'I guess I'm no spring chicken anymore,' he mused, feeling every one of his 60-plus years. So, he reluctantly headed back to the inn to soak in a nice hot bath and plan his trek across the city.

As he ate his breakfast the next morning, Oibore thought about the quickest route across town. Having been born and raised in Tokyo, he knew the older parts of the city like the back of his hand. Although it was not near the area where he used to live, he did know exactly where the bend in the river was, and he knew exactly what streets to take to get there. He also knew that if he were a young man again, it would take him more than an hour to walk there; as an old man with tired feet, it would take considerably longer. He decided he'd better leave right after breakfast in order to arrive at the dojo before lunch.

The walk turned out to be very nostalgic. There was the street his wife's family had lived on, where he had courted her so many years ago. Further on was the building he used to work in, back when he was a clerk for the Bakufu government. He recognized storefronts and old friends' houses, but the names had all changed, and he saw no one he recognized. Finally, he came to the bend in the river. His feet were so tired and achy by this time that he decided to stop by the river and soak them in the cool water. After a blissful 15 minutes, he went up the embankment to find the marketplace. He decided his feet would appreciate it if he asked for directions to the dojo, rather than just walking around searching for it, so he went up to one of the stalls.

"Pardon me," he said to the young shopkeeper, "I'm looking for the Kamiya dojo. Could you tell me where it is?"

"Kamiya dojo? Oh, yes! That's where that red-headed man lives," she answered, blushing slightly. "He's one of our very best customers, though I haven't seen him lately." 

"Really?" Oibore said. "He shops here often?"

"Oh, yes, he buys all his tofu here, and lots and lots of laundry detergent," she said with great seriousness. "I hear he just loves to do the laundry."

Laundry? 

"You just go down this street, follow the wall, turn right, and you'll find it."

'Thank goodness it's close,' thought Oibore. 

He thanked the young woman, then set off down the street and followed the wall until the turn in the road. Sure enough, shortly after turning right, he saw a large dojo whose sign said "Kamiya Kasshin Ryu." His heart skipped a few beats as he walked up to the gate, but when he got there, he found a note: "We have gone to Kyoto. If you need help, please see Takani Megumi at the Gensai Clinic." The note concluded with the address and directions.

'Kyoto? It can't be!' He groaned inwardly. Maybe it was just the young Kamiya woman who went to Kyoto, it couldn't be Kenshin as well, could it? The gods wouldn't do that to him, would they? He quickly memorized the directions to the Gensai clinic and started walking as fast as he could. His heart was pounding in his chest---to have come so far, to have found the place where his son-in-law was living, and then to find it deserted---it was more than he could take.

It only took less than 10 minutes to reach the clinic, but it was a very tired, very dejected Oibore who knocked at the door. An elderly gentleman answered.

Bowing deeply, Oibore said, "I have come from the Kamiya dojo. A sign there has directed me here to see Takani Megumi. Would it be possible to speak with her?"

"Of course," the old man said. "She is one of the doctors here. I am the other, Dr. Gensai. Please come in."

'A woman doctor?' Oibore thought wearily. 'What will they think of next?' 

A few minutes later, a young woman dressed in a doctor's smock approached. "I am Takani Megumi. May I help you with something?"

Oibore didn't know what he had expected, but his idea of a woman doctor certainly wasn't one of a rather good-looking young woman. 'I'll bet the young men are finding all sorts of ailments just to see her,' he thought with a laugh. More seriously, however, he needed to think of a way to ask for Kenshin without giving away his own identity. He decided that something a bit less than the truth, but not a total lie either, would be best.

"Takani-sensei, I have come all the way from Kyoto to deliver a message to Kamiya-san from friends of her family," Oibore said. "It seems everyone at her home has left for Kyoto, however."

Megumi narrowed her eyes, trying to decide if this old man was on the level or not. 'Friends of her family?' Megumi thought. 'I wonder if someone is trying to marry her off or something. I'll bet that's it.'

Aloud she said, "I'm sorry to say, but yes, she left for Kyoto three weeks ago. You are aware, of course, that she is practically betrothed to the man boarding at her dojo. It's him that she has followed to Kyoto."

It slowly dawned on Oibore just what Megumi was getting at. "Oh, no, Takani-sensei, I'm not here to play matchmaker!" he laughed. "I just wanted to visit with her on behalf of these friends. Do you know when she will be back?"

"Why don't you come inside," she said, and showed him into a small sitting room. She watched as he slowly walked into the room and painfully lowered himself into a sitting position. "And your name is….?"

Oibore thought quickly. Here was someone who obviously knew the residents of the Kamiya dojo well, but he still could not be sure how much she knew about Kenshin's past. Best to stick with his nickname, he decided.

"People call me Oibore," he smiled. Then, just to see what kind of reaction he would get, he added, "I'm just a poor rurouni."

"Rurouni?" Megumi said sharply. "What do you know about the rurouni?"

"_The_ rurouni? No, no, I'm a _kind_ of rurouni, a wandering scholar," Oibore said innocently. "I wander here and there teaching children how to read and work with numbers." He saw a look of relief swiftly cross Megumi's otherwise impassive face. "Why? Is something the matter?" 

"Oh, nothing," she quickly answered, "it's just that a dear, dear friend of mine is a rurouni. Although we all thought he had decided to stop wandering, but he's gone wandering again…." Her voice trailed off.

Oibore noticed her eyes taking on a sad, faraway look. "Is that who left for Kyoto?" he asked gently, "the person Kamiya-san has followed?"

Megumi nodded. "He left a month ago. He said goodbye to Kaoru---Kamiya Kaoru, that is---but not to anyone else, not even me. She left a few days later, along with her student Yahiko, to find him. And then another friend, Sano, left…. ." She stopped, wiped her eyes, then continued. "Well, I couldn't go because my patients need me." 

"And you have feelings for both those young men, don't you." 

"How did you….," Megumi sputtered. Then she sighed, saying, "You know, you remind me of my grandfather."

Before Oibore could say a word, the young doctor looked away, trying to hold back her emotions but failing. Four weeks of worrying and waiting finally came to a head in a flood of tears. Oibore moved to her side and, throwing propriety to the winds, put his arms around her and let her cry. They sat like that for several minutes, Megumi crying and Oibore stroking her head, saying, "There, there…."

As the tears slowed, Megumi looked up at Oibore and realized that the person giving her comfort was actually a total stranger. She hastily dried her eyes and stuttered, "Oh, I'm so sorry, I….please forgive me….it's just…."

"Maa, maa," Oibore said, smiling gently. "I was a father once. It's a good feeling to be able to help a daughter once again."

"It's just that I haven't heard a word from any of them in so long," Megumi blurted out. "And it's not as if dear Ken-san just decided to leave for no reason. He used to be a swordsman of, well, some renown, but he's been trying to put that behind him. About a month ago, though, Governor Okubo asked him to go to Kyoto to try to stop some madman. They said he was the only one who could do it. We begged him not to go, but after Okubo-sama was assassinated last month, he decided he had to go. He left by himself because he was afraid he would put us all in danger otherwise. Oibore-san, he might be killed, he might never come back, he might lose his soul!" And with that, she started sobbing again.

"There, there," Oibore said as he comforted her again. "You have great faith in this Ken-san, as do all your friends. Why else would they follow him, and why else would you worry so about him? He is a lucky man to have such friends."

Once again, Megumi wiped away her tears. "Thank you," she said quietly. "You know, you really are like my grandfather---he always knew how to calm my fears and make things better." 

Oibore moved to get up, groaning a bit as his old bones complained. "Well, Takani-sensei, it's time I was off," he said. "Thank you so much for telling me about your friends." 

As he started walking towards the door, Megumi called to him, "Wait! Let me get something for you."

She hurried out of the room, then returned carrying two bottles. "Here," she said, "take these. I noticed when you came that your feet and legs were bothering you. I have no doubt that you have more than a touch of arthritis. This is a special linament, a secret formula developed by my late father. Use this twice a day, and I am sure you will feel much better."

She motioned for him to sit once again and proceeded to apply it to his legs and feet. The smell was atrocious, but almost instantly the warmth it imparted to his ailing bones made some of the pain go away.

"I appreciate this very much," he said, pushing the bottles back to her, "but I have no money to pay you."

"Then take it as a gift," she said, "in appreciation for your help today."

They walked to the clinic door together and were just about to say farewell when a policeman came running up.

"Are you Takani Megumi?" the man called out, trying to catch his breath.

"Yes," she replied.

"A letter," he panted. "You must read it right away!"

Megumi took the letter and immediately recognized the handwriting—-it was Kaoru's. Oibore moved to leave, but she held him back as she quickly read the letter. She handed it to him to read as she stood in shock.

"Dearest Megumi," the letter read. "Kenshin has won the battle, but he has been gravely injured and is close to death. You must come right away. --- Kaoru. P.S. The rest of us are okay, except Yahiko has a bad sword slash on his back, and Sano's hand is so broken that it may never recover."

"My dear," Oibore said gently as he clasped Megumi's shoulders, "your family needs you."

"Yes," she said in a dazed way, "yes, they do."

By now the policeman had caught his breath and yelled, "Lady, you have to get moving! Chief Uramura has a ticket for you for the late afternoon train. You've got to get going _now_!"

The spell was broken. Megumi, back to her efficient, professional self, gave a quick hug to Oibore, then flew inside to gather her things for the trip. 

"Thanks once again, Ojiisan," she yelled as she went through the clinic door.

He watched as she ran back into the clinic, then started his long trek back to the inn. The fates, Oibore decided, were having their fun playing with him. Not only was Kenshin in Kyoto instead of Tokyo, but it sounded like he might die before Oibore could get back. Perhaps he just wasn't destined to meet his daughter's husband after all. He kept thinking how much he would rather head back right away to Kyoto. Instead, he knew he had to stick around Tokyo for another week and a half to conduct business before he could return with the silk merchants. Rarely in the past 10 years had he ever regretted living his simple life. What need did he have for money except to pay for food, clothing, and a roof over his head? But now he would have given anything to be able to afford a train ticket and hop on that afternoon train with the young doctor. 

Oibore's mood didn't lighten much over the next several days. Hadn't he promised Tomoe, that first day at her grave, that he would find her love and look after him? If only he had come a month earlier! Instead, her husband lay severely wounded, even dead perhaps, in Kyoto. He felt he had failed her. He did have one piece of good luck, however---not only did he finish his own business quicker than planned, but so did the silk merchants. So, half a week early they were on their way back to Kyoto, and this time there were no stops to do business along the way.

  


-----------------------------------------------------

Japanese Terms:

Hitokiri: assassin.

Kendo: swordsmanship.

Ojiisan: Generic term for grandfather, often used to address any elderly person.

Bakufu: the former Shogunate government

Sensei: honorific for a learned person, such as a teacher or doctor.

Author's Note: Well, the fates have been cruel to Oibore; I hope you, my kind reviewers, will not be cruel to me. And you have all been so kind! I promise, the fates will eventually be kinder to Oibore as well.

CoConspirator: 'Halvor?!!'

'Here I am.'

'Have you got your big cat with you still?'

'Why yes! And now she has seven kittens far larger than she is herself!'

Conspirator: Is there a rationale for CoConspirator's note? Hah, not that I can find! If any of you recognize where that literary gem comes from, you win the door prize---namely, Chapter 6!


	6. Chapter 6

The fates have been cruel to Tomoe's father, Yukishiro Takuo (who uses the nickname "Oibore," or "Old Fool"). Will he ever find his son-in-law, Himura Kenshin?

This chapter is based on the manga and anime versions of the Kyoto arc. At this point, I don't need to proclaim "major spoiler warning," do I?

Disclaimer: All hail Watsuki-sama---he (and all the media conglomerates) own the RK characters. I won't make a dime off this….

****

In Search of Family

Chapter 6

It was almost mid-July by the time Oibore and the silk merchants returned to Kyoto. During the nearly six weeks he had been gone, Oibore realized just how much his friends in Kyoto meant to him. Yes, he had lived almost his entire life in Tokyo, but now that city seemed foreign to him, and he had no friends there. He found he couldn't wait to get home to Kyoto to share meals again with Hiro and Fat Boy, hear the news from the world's biggest gossip Ko, visit Tomoe's grave, and share his daily morning tea with the calm Toshiro. No doubt about it, this had been a long, hard, disappointing journey, made only slightly better by the linament he had been given by Kenshin's young doctor friend. 'I'll have to take this to someone in Kyoto to see if they can duplicate it,' Toshiro thought. 'It really does work wonders.'

Finally the little caravan entered the small marketplace that was home to not only Ko, but also Ko's friend, the silk merchant. As Oibore supervised the unloading of bolts of fabric, he heard shouts of welcome behind him. It was his friend Hiro, who worked nearby.

"Welcome back! Welcome back! We've missed you!" Hiro yelled as he came running up. He and Oibore embraced briefly as Hiro said, "I've got to tell Fat Boy you're back. Come over to my place for dinner—-I know you don't have anything to eat yet at your place, and Fat Boy's got some stories to tell you." Oibore agreed to come.

Not two seconds later, Ko came flying into the silk shop. "Oibore, you old son of a gun! Glad you're back!" he said with his usual enthusiasm. "I gotta take you off somewhere---have I got news for you!"

Poor Oibore felt like some kind of local celebrity being pulled in all directions at once, when in reality all he wanted to do was flop down on his own futon in his own room and rest. Nevertheless, once he finished supervising the unloading of all the bolts of silk, he went off with Ko to hear the latest news. 'Who needs a newspaper when you've got Ko as a friend?' he chuckled to himself.

Ko led Oibore into his private room in back of the store and sat him down. "So, did you meet your son-in-law?" he came right out and asked.

Oibore gave a huge sigh and said, "No." He would have said more, but Ko didn't give him the chance.

"I figured as much, from what's been happening around here," Ko said, not missing a beat. "You won't believe what's been going on! Right after you left, a whole bunch of really strange, dangerous-looking thugs started wandering into town. The whole city was buzzing with rumors because some of these guys apparently had been dangerous swordsmen during the Bakumatsu. So what were they doing here, right? Well, anyway, around mid-June there was this huge attack on a little restaurant out near the foothills at the edge of town. It was a bunch of these thugs, and they just about destroyed the restaurant and the block surrounding it. I heard about it from some police friends I have, and they said these guys were defeated by an old man, some ninjas, and a kid and a girl wielding bokkens. Oh, yes, and a very tall swordsman wearing a huge white cape. Unbelievable!

"But that's not all, because later that same day, there were these really strange explosions coming from Mt. Hiei. The whole city could see columns of thick, black smoke coming from the mountain. We didn't know if it was a volcano or what! Well, according to my police friends, it turns out there was some kind of secret factory in the mountain run by some madman who wanted to overthrow the government. Now, here's where the story _really _gets unbelievable. They say that this madman was defeated by the Hitokiri Battousai along with a streetfighter friend, a captain of the Shinsengumi, and the leader of the Oniwabanshuu, and that caused the factory to explode! Well, first off, what's the Battousai doing here when he's supposed to be in Tokyo, right? But who's going to believe that loyal Bakufu types like the Shinsengumi or Oniwabanshuu would help one of the most famous Ishin Shishi to protect the Meiji government! The world may have changed and all, but not that much, I'd bet!"

Oibore just smiled and laid a calming hand on the arm of his overwrought friend. "Ko," he said quietly, "I have a feeling that everything you just told me is probably true."

"No! You don't say!"

"When I got to Tokyo," Oibore said, "I found out that my son-in-law, the Battousai, had been asked by Governor Okubo himself to save the government from some threat in Kyoto. Until you told me just now, I didn't know the details of what happened here, but I do know that Kenshin was gravely wounded and was close to death after winning the battle. That's weighed heavily on my mind, not knowing if he survived. Do you know?"

"Gosh, I don't….," Ko said quietly. Oibore could see his disappointment at not having all the news for once.

"Well, perhaps I'll find out someday," Oibore sighed. "It's been a long and disappointing trip, although I did get to meet a friend of his, a lovely young woman who's a doctor. And I learned that he has a close circle of friends who care a lot about him. At least that's something…."

He got up to leave. "Ko, thank you for arranging this trip for me. I know it didn't turn out the way I had hoped, but I'm glad I did it. Now, though, I'm very tired. I'll stop in tomorrow at the usual time, and we can get your son's lessons moving again." And with that, he left to return home and take a well-deserved nap before dinner.

Later, as evening fell, Oibore walked over to Hiro's room at the boarding house for the promised dinner. Hiro was no great cook, but the food was good enough, and at least Oibore didn't have to do the cooking himself. It was nice to have a meal with friends again.

"So, do you want to tell us about your trip first, or should we have Fat Boy here tell you what he's heard?" asked Hiro.

Oibore hesitated a second, then said, "Maybe I should tell you something I was afraid to tell anyone when I first came to Kyoto 10 years ago. The Hitokiri Battousai was married once, when he was just 15, but his wife was killed accidently shortly after their marriage. It was my daughter, the one whose grave I visit, who was married to him. So, you might say that he is my son-in-law."

Hiro and Fat Boy looked at each other impassively, then looked back at Oibore. "You know, old fool, we both figured there was something going on with that interest of yours," Hiro finally said. "We just couldn't figure out exactly what the connection was." Then he and Fat Boy burst into laughter. 

'They know me too well,' Oibore smiled to himself as he joined in. 

As the laughter died down, Fat Boy spoke up, blunt as usual. "Got a friend who saw it all," he began. "You heard yet what's happened around here?"

"Ko told me a little something," Oibore replied.

"Yeah, well, this guy I know was in the thick of it at that restaurant what got busted up, the Aoiya. He lives just down the block. Says this gang of really weird fighters descended on the place---giants, some flying guy, a dame with a scythe, you name it. He figures it has to do with the red-head, because he saw the guy visit there before it all happened."

"You mean the Battousai? Himura Kenshin?" Oibore asked.

"Yeah, him," Fat Boy answered. "He was there along with some others. Descriptions are pretty strange, but he said there was a bunch of people from Tokyo who seemed to be his friends---some tall guy with wild hair and the symbol for evil on his back, a girl swinging a bokken, and a kid about 10 years old. The red-head and the tall guy take off one morning with a policeman, but this ain't just any policeman. My friend says he's positive it's a guy who used to head a squad of Shinsengumi way back when, name of Saitou. Says he ran into this guy just once about 11 years ago and that he'd never forget those evil eyes of his. Yup, he's positive it's this Saitou guy, all dressed up in a policeman's uniform but carrying a regular katana. They all acted like they was friends."

He paused for a sip of sake, then continued. "So off they go, and that very afternoon these weirdos show up trying to destroy the place! You can believe that he and everyone else went running from their houses when those giants started whomping through their roofs! And believe it or not, that little kid and that girl with the bokken managed to defeat some of these guys! Then he says the folks who own this restaurant are really ninjas, and they defeated some of the others. And then," he paused to catch his breath, "he says this really tall guy with a huge white cape and a lot of attitude shows up and finishes off the last one!"

He paused once again for more sake. "So now my friend's gotta camp out in the street, right? And what does he see about 10 o'clock that night? The tall guy with the wild hair practically dragging the red-head back to the Aioya, along with some other tall guy all the ninjas seem to know. All three of them looked half-dead, he says, but the red-head looked the worst---says his clothes was all ripped, and he was covered with blood from head to toe. No sign of that policeman, though."

Oibore broke in. "Fat Boy, does your friend know if Kenshin survived?"

Fat Boy favored Oibore with one of his rare smiles. "Don't you worry, father-in-law. He says they brought in some lady doctor from Tokyo, who brought him back to life. My friend heard this from the workmen repairing the restaurant---the owners had to find somewhere else to stay while it was being fixed. And just last week the red-head himself showed up on the block with the ninjas. Says he looked pretty rickety, but he was alive."

"Fat Boy, that is the best news I've had in a long time!" Oibore said. Then he told his friends the tale of his trip to Tokyo. "So," he concluded, "I've been in suspense for the past six weeks, wondering if Kenshin was alive or dead. Now, thanks to you, I know he's alive." It was a good end to a very long day.

The next morning, Oibore went to visit Tomoe's grave, as was his custom. Today, however, his heart was heavy. It was good to know Kenshin was alive, but he still felt he had failed his daughter. He put his hand on the gravestone and sighed, reliving in his mind what had happened on his trip. As he did so, a feeling of peace and contentment came over him, almost as if Tomoe herself were trying to comfort him. It was a feeling he hadn't had since his first visit, a feeling that Tomoe was with him. "Thank you, daughter," he said softly. Then he rose to find his friend at the monastery.

A happy Toshiro greeted him at the door. "Friend, it's good to see you again," the monk said warmly as the two embraced.

"Toshiro, I didn't get to meet him," Oibore said sadly.

"I know," he replied. "Himura-kun was here last week to visit Tomoe's grave. Let's dispense with the tea ceremony today. Let's just sit and talk while we drink instead."

As they made their way inside, Oibore said wistfully, "You mean, if I hadn't left town, I would have gotten to meet him…?"

"Oibore," Toshiro said as he brought out the cups and trays, "you of all people should know that everything happens for a reason, even your trip to Tokyo."

After they had settled themselves, Toshiro began his story. "Just like everyone else in Kyoto," he said, "I had heard rumors of what happened on Mt. Hiei. They said that Himura-kun had either been killed or was close to death. Every day I prayed that he was alive and would recover. So, last week when I opened the door and found him standing there, I have to admit I got a bit emotional---I probably embarrassed him---but it was like seeing a son come back to life." 

He stopped as he quickly wiped his eyes. "The first thing he said to me was, 'I've kept my promise to Tomoe. I've never killed again, ever.'"

"Then how did he….?"

"I don't quite understand it all---he's a very self-effacing man," Toshiro replied. "What he said was, 'Shishio was consumed by the hatred that burned within him,' and, 'The age chose that the weak should not be food for the strong; they should be able to live in peace.' I could tell from his eyes that this battle was still too raw, that he couldn't talk about it yet, but it was clear that he defeated this man without breaking his vow."

They sat in silence for awhile, then Toshiro continued his story.

"He's had a hard life. He's wandered for all these 10 years, never staying anywhere for very long, never allowing anyone to get close enough to become a friend. He said he learned early on in his wanderings that if someone did become his friend, they risked being injured or killed because of him. 'I seem to be a magnet for revenge,' is how he put it. There was such sadness in his eyes as he told me this."

"But he does have friends," Oibore cut in. "I have met one, in Tokyo."

"Ah, yes," Toshiro said. "It seems about four months ago he met a young woman there who needed help. She was a kendo master trying to defend the honor of her late father's dojo against an impostor claiming to be the Hitokiri Battousai. 'She asked me to stay,' he told me. 'She told me my past didn't matter to her, that it was only the rurouni that mattered now.' He said no one had ever told him that before, that no one had ever accepted him despite his past. The way he said it, he seemed truly amazed at this turn of events. I think he has strong feelings for this young woman, because he said that saying goodbye to her before coming to Kyoto nearly broke his heart."

"Then why did he leave her behind?" Oibore asked. "Did he say?"

"I did ask him that," Toshiro answered. "All he said was, 'I was afraid that she and my friends would come to harm if they were with me, but they all followed me here anyway.' He told me he had sworn to protect them always, and that several times he had done just that against people out for his life. Now he's found that they want to protect him as well. Again, he seemed truly amazed by this. I realized then that probably he's never had a real friend before in his entire life. Do you know, he calls himself by the old-fashioned 'sessha'---unworthy one---and he seems to believe he truly is unworthy. I told him perhaps it was time to give that up!"

He smiled as he remembered that part of the conversation.

"He told me one other thing. Before this battle, he visited his shishou for the first time since leaving him many years ago. He had never gone back because he felt he had dishonored his shishou's teachings, but he found that his shishou forgave him. During this visit, he said his shishou taught him a crucial lesson, that there is nothing stronger or more important than the will to live. All these years, he thought it didn't matter whether he lived or died. Now his shishou showed him that it did. He said he probably would have died on Mt. Hiei if he hadn't learned this lesson. 'I lay there dying,' he told me, 'but I had promised Kaoru that I would return. I knew I had to live, so I willed myself to stay alive.' 

The two old men sat in silence once again. Then Oibore said, "I wish I had been here, if only just to see him. I don't even know what he looks like, other than that he's short, with red hair and an X scar on his cheek. Has he changed much since you last saw him 10 years ago?"

"Well, he hasn't grown any taller, if that's what you mean!" Toshiro laughed. "To be honest, though, he looked very pale and weak. He was apparently unconscious for days and bedridden until just shortly before he came here. He's been staying at an inn not too far away, but just that short walk here seemed to tire him out. I could see fresh scars on either side of his neck and on his hand, and it looked like he had sustained a terrible burn on one shoulder; there was some kind of jagged wound on the other. I could also see a large bandage just above his waist, and who knows what might be on his back or legs. He will be healing for a long time, I'm afraid. Still, he said they were planning to take the train home within the next few days, which I presume they did."

Oibore nodded. Then, after sipping his tea, he told Toshiro about his trip to Tokyo and his meeting with Kenshin's friend, Megumi. He also told him everything Fat Boy had related about the fight at the Aioya.

"A tall swordsman in a white cape helped out?" Toshiro repeated. "I'll bet that was Himura-kun's shishou. He mentioned that his shishou had come to help his friends. And I'll bet that's who the tall man in the cape was that I saw with Himura-kun at Tomoe's grave."

"Toshiro, did you tell him about me?"

"I wrestled with that question while he was visiting," he said. "I decided that was something only you should do, in your own way and in your own time. I hope I did the right thing…."

"Yes, probably you're right," Oibore said with a sigh. "Perhaps, when I've saved up a bit of money, I'll take another trip to Tokyo. This time, though, I plan to do it by train. And at least this time I'll know where he lives!"

Then it was back to the daily routine of life as he had known it since moving to Kyoto. In the mornings, there was breakfast with Hiro and Fat Boy, followed by his visits to Tomoe's grave and Toshiro. In the afternoons, he gave lessons to Ko's younger son Kogoro ("Named this one for a great statesman, too!" Ko had explained) and two children of another merchant. And even though he was determined to save some money for a train ticket, he felt it would not be right to stop bringing those weekly meals to the inhabitants of Rakuninmura. 'After all,' he decided, 'if fate hadn't stepped in, I'd still be living there myself.' He still earned a little money from his book of Battousai legends, though sales had dropped off as the years went by. Unless he took on more students or found some other source of income, he figured it might take until spring before he had enough saved up for a round-trip ticket. 

As luck would have it, though, a new source of income appeared. After returning from Tokyo, he had decided to thank Ko for all his help arranging the trip by making him a beautifully calligraphed scroll of haiku. Ko thought it was so wonderful that he hung it in his shop. Soon patrons were asking Oibore to make scrolls for them, too. 'Maybe by winter I'll be able to make that trip,' Oibore now calculated.

But plans changed suddenly in mid-September. He had gone to visit Tomoe's grave as usual, but instead of the peace and calm he normally felt there, he sensed agitation. "Tomoe, daughter, whatever is the matter?" he asked rhetorically as he stared at her gravestone. He of course didn't expect an answer, but in his heart he heard, "Father, go to him. He needs you." Oibore stood straight up at this. 'She's speaking to me, just like she did that first time!' He hurried up to the monastery to tell Toshiro. The monk was waiting for him at the door, anxiety written all over his face.

"Toshiro," Oibore blurted out, "she's spoken to me again. Something's the matter!"

"I know, old friend. I think you may be needed in Tokyo."

As the two hurried inside, Toshiro didn't even wait to get the tea before telling Oibore his news. "Yesterday afternoon, a young ninja named Makimachi Misao came to see me with a letter from Himura-kun's young woman friend, Kamiya Kaoru. The letter said there was an emergency and asked that I give Tomoe's diary to young Makimachi-san to bring to Tokyo."

He stopped as he watched Oibore's surprised reaction, then sat the old man down.

"Takuo, the emergency is that someone is threatening to kill Himura Kenshin. This someone has already attacked those associated with Himura-kun. This someone is Yukishiro Enishi."

"Enishi? My son Enishi?" Oibore was in a daze. "He's still alive…?" Then he shook his head, trying to clear his mind. "You say my son Enishi wants to kill Kenshin? But I can't let that happen!"

Oibore's mind started racing. His son was alive but bent on destroying the man who gave his daughter happiness. He was needed, no question about that, but where did his duty lie, with his son or his daughter's husband? 'Father, go to him. He needs you,' he remembered Tomoe saying to him just minutes ago. He knew in his heart that she meant Kenshin. "Toshiro, I must go right away to Tokyo!"

Toshiro convinced him to at least stay for tea so they could talk through the best way to approach Kenshin. Toshiro felt strongly that this was not the time for him to write a letter of introduction. "I think you should bring Tomoe's hairpin instead," he said. "That will say more to him than any letter I could write." As for Enishi, Toshiro said, "First go and find your son-in-law. I am sure your path will become clear once you've done that."

Oibore then rushed off to Ko's shop to tell him what had happened. "I know it's been only two months---I hate to break off young Kogoro's studies so soon---but I must go," he told the greengrocer.

Ko looked at his friend with concern. "I understand," Ko said with uncharacteristic quiet. "I pray you are not too late. And don't worry---my son will still be here to teach when you get back."

Oibore hurried back to his room. 'How much money do I have?' he wondered. 'I'm just too old for that long walk on the Tokaido Road, and I don't have any more of that wonderful linament!' He counted up his savings and figured he had just barely enough for a round-trip train ticket, but nothing left over to pay for an inn. 'No matter,' he thought, 'Rakuninmura is good enough for me.' With that in mind, he found his oldest, most threadbare clothes to wear on the trip. He then took Tomoe's hairpin out of the small case he had bought for it. The safest place for this, he decided, considering that he would be staying at Rakuninmura, would be in his own hair. 'Hope people don't get the wrong idea about me!' he laughed to himself. There was just one more thing he wanted---no, needed---to do. He quickly found a blank scroll and composed a haiku. 'It's the least I can do to thank Takani Megumi for her kindness,' he thought as he put his red mark on the parchment.

He arrived bright and early at the train station the next morning. By noon he would be in Tokyo.

Japanese Terms:

Bakumatsu: Japanese civil war.

Bokken: wooden sword.

Bakufu: former Shogunate government.

Ishin Shishi: nickname for the anti-Shogun forces during the civil war.

Katana: long sword.

-kun: honorific for a close friend. 

Shishou: master sword teacher.

Author's Note: This tale is about to come to an end. The question is, should it come in two chapters of about nine pages each, or one long chapter of about 18 pages? So, yes, dear readers, I have finished the story---I'm just making you all wait on tenterhooks until next time! And one plea for help: anyone out there know what "shikemoku" is? It's some kind of food. By the way, if you're wondering where that lovely literary quotation came from that CoConspirator so flippantly placed at the end of Chapter 5---it's from _Cat on the Dovrefell_, by Tomie de Paola. It has absolutely nothing to do with this story; CoConspirator was just in a silly mood that day!

CoConspirator: Oibore does a lot of traveling *sigh* On to chapter 7!! *rides train off into the distance*


	7. Chapter 7

What does Yukishiro Takuo, who calls himself Oibore, find when he returns to Tokyo? This chapter is part one of the conclusion. 

This chapter is based on the Jinchuu arc. All quotes from the manga are from the marvelous translations of Maigo-chan (all hail Maigo-chan!).

Disclaimer: Watsuki-sama (and all the media conglomerates) owns the RK characters. I won't make a dime off this….

****

In Search of Family

Chapter 7

The trip from Kyoto to Tokyo seemed to take no time at all. Oibore had seen a train before, but he had never ridden on one. The whole experience was very strange and, in a way, very liberating. He could watch out the window as the canal and the countryside rolled by, which was oddly calming to his mind, and heaven knew his mind was in desperate need of that. It was so different from the long and arduous journey he had made just two short months ago. If it hadn't been for the horrible feeling of anxiety in the pit of his stomach, he probably would have enjoyed the whole experience immensely.

The train pulled into the Yokahama station shortly before noon. Oibore knew he had about an hour's walk to Tokyo ahead of him, but he couldn't bear to take that long---he had the feeling that time was of the essence. Instead, he decided to use some of the spare change he had brought with him to take a carriage to Tokyo. Within half an hour, he was at the city limits. He quickly got his bearings, then headed for the bend in the river and the Kamiya dojo. He found the marketplace, followed the wall, turned right, and saw a large crowd spilling out of the dojo gates. As crowds go, this one was awfully quiet. A tall policeman with a sword stood at the gate, arms folded as he surveyed the scene. 

'Oh, no,' Oibore thought, 'something's happened.' His heart sinking, he walked up to the gate and peeked in.

"What's going on?" Oibore asked the policeman.

"What does it look like, old man?" was the curt response.

"I'm sure I don't know," Oibore said tentatively. Despite the warmth of a mid-September day, he felt a distinctly icy chill coming from the man. He looked up and saw a thin face with the eyes of a hunter. The phrase 'evil eyes' went through his mind. 

"It's a funeral," the policeman said. "Any idiot can see that." 

Oibore's legs started to feel weak. He grabbed onto a gatepost for support as he asked, in a wavering voice, "Who died?"

"Huh, you don't know? The Kamiya girl," the policeman said. "Killed. Stupid woman, finally bit off more than she could chew."

Suddenly, a tall, wild-haired man in a white jacket lunged between them, staring malevolently at the policeman. Oibore noticed the symbol for evil on his back.

"You pig," the man growled dangerously at the policeman. "Don't ever let me hear you talk that way about the Little Missy again." 

"Oh, and you're gonna stop me," the policeman said in a snide voice. It was more of a statement than a question. "You still haven't learned your lesson, have you….moron." The policeman's hand moved subtly over to his katana.

"Why, you…!" and if a young boy hadn't broken through the crowd right then, Oibore had no doubt the two men would have had a fight.

"Sano, no!" the boy shouted. "Have some respect for Kaoru. Saitou, you too!" He grabbed the wild-haired man's arm and started pulling him away.

Then Oibore saw the young doctor. "Yahiko," Megumi said firmly, "why don't we leave these….children….alone." Looking both men in the eye, she said in a tight voice, "Don't you both have better things to do?" 

As she led the boy away, she noticed Oibore. A flash of recognition went across her face, but she said nothing. The policeman also walked away after giving Sano a last, threatening glare.

As calm returned again, Oibore started scanning the crowd, looking for any sign of a red-haired man. He found none. Finally, he gathered up his courage and approached the man he now knew was named Sano.

"May I ask, what happened to Kamiya-san?" 

Sano kept looking down the street after the policeman as he said, "Some lunatic from the Bakumatsu named Enishi. Said he wanted to give 'earthly justice' to Kenshin. But he kills Kaoru instead. Even cut an X on her cheek." He closed his eyes tight, as if trying to keep tears from coming.

"But Himura-san doesn't seem to be here," Oibore said. "Where is he?"

"Damned if I know," Sano grunted as he turned to look at Oibore. Oibore watched as the man clenched and unclenched his fists. "Yeah, damned if I know," he said louder, "and when I get my hands on him…. How can he disappear at a time like this? We all knew how special Jou-chan was to him. I don't understand him at all!" And with that, he stormed off.

Oibore felt sick. His son, Enishi, had done this---a heinous crime---all to get back at Kenshin. He saw no point in hanging around the dojo any longer, so he went back to the river to sit and think. Kamiya Kaoru was dead, killed by his son. Kenshin was nowhere to be found. Presumably he hadn't been killed or that man Sano would have said so.

Sano. Oibore remembered that name. Wasn't that the fellow Megumi mentioned when he met her in July? With the wild hair and the symbol for evil on his back, it was clear that this Sano fellow was the same one Fat Boy's friend had seen bringing Kenshin back after the battle on Mt. Hiei. And the name Saitou---the policeman the friend said had the evil eyes. Yes, it had to be the same policeman, and yes, no one would forget eyes like those! As for the young boy who had pulled the two men apart, the doctor had called him Yahiko---another name he remembered from his talk with Megumi. That would have to be Kaoru's student. He remembered Fat Boy saying that Kaoru and her young student had defeated two of the dangerous swordsmen who had attacked the restaurant in Kyoto. This must be the same boy, he concluded. This, then, was Kenshin's circle of friends, the people Kenshin had sworn to protect and who had wanted to protect him.

Oibore buried his head in his hands. His daughter was right, he was needed here, but once again he seemed to be too late. Thirteen years ago Kenshin had loved, only to have death claim the one he loved. Now it appeared that Kenshin had loved once again, only to have death again claim the one he loved. Oibore looked up at the sky and shook his fist. "Haven't you made this man suffer enough?" he cried. 

He stayed down by the river for a good half hour before deciding it was time to move on. It was getting towards dinnertime, and he had a bit of a walk before reaching Rakuninmura. First, however, he wanted to stop by the young doctor's office to deliver his gift. He was sure that by now she would be back from the funeral, and he was right. As he walked down the block, he could see her sitting on the porch, staring off into space.

"Takani-sensei?" Oibore said tentatively. 

She looked up. "Oh, it's you," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Oibore, isn't it?" The voice was cold. "You know, when I went to Kyoto, I told Kaoru that friends of her family in Kyoto had sent a message with you. She said her family didn't know anyone in Kyoto."

Oibore didn't have an answer---he had been caught in a lie. He stood silent for a moment, then said softly, "It doesn't really matter anymore, does it." 

Megumi continued to stare at him.

"I have brought you a gift, Takani-sensei," Oibore finally said. "I was so appreciative of the linament you gave me, I though this was the least I could do to repay you." He reached into his sleeve pocket and handed her the scroll. "It's my own composition," he added.

She took the scroll and opened it. It read: 

True friends are a treasure.

Contentment flows from them.

A gift from the gods.

She fought back the tears she felt coming to her eyes, then said, "Oibore-san, please forgive my harshness. This scroll---I don't know what to say…. It's something I will always treasure." Then she rose from her seat, took his hand, and squeezed it. "Thank you so much."

"Takani-chan," Oibore said, returning the squeeze, "I am so sorry about your friend." Then he turned to leave.

"Oibore-san," Megumi called after him, "please, feel free to stop by here whenever you want. I would be honored to have you visit."

Oibore bowed his head, then left.

Half an hour later, he reached his final destination---Rakuninmura. He remembered the last time he had sought this place. It had been a time of grief, after Tomoe and Enishi had disappeared 14 years ago. It seemed it would be a time of grief once again. He reached into his small bag to make sure he still had his provisions. Before leaving Kyoto, Hiro and Fat Boy had given him a gift of some salted fish and rice balls to help smooth his way into the land of the destitute. 'Oh, well,' he said to himself, taking a deep breath, 'here goes nothing.'

Wearing his most benign smile, he walked into the ramshackle area, singing, "Oh well, what the hell…. Oh well, what the hell…."

"Oi, old man, whatcha think you're doing here?" Four burly men surrounded Oibore, and it wasn't good cheer that was in their eyes.

"Maa, maa," Oibore smiled. "I'm just an old man down on my luck, looking for a place to stay…."

That line had worked many a time for him, but these men weren't buying it. They moved in closer, in a threatening way.

"Hey, he's got a bag with him," one of them said.

"Yeah, we ought to take a look," another added ominously.

Oibore looked around at the men, trying his best to appear harmless. 'This crowd is a lot rougher than I expected,' he thought nervously.

"Hey, you guys, back off!" a voiced ordered. "This guy's gotta be a hundred, if he's a day. Go crawl back into your holes."

"Aw, Kuma, you take all the fun out of life," one of them grumbled.

"Thank you so much, Kuma-san," Oibore said after the four had left. "I was beginning to get a little worried there."

"Kuma-san, eh? Awfully polite, aren't you?" the man called Kuma replied.

"Old habits die hard when you're my age," Oibore replied with a smile. "But if you'd like to know what I've got in this bag, it's something to share. I never go anywhere empty-handed."

"Old man, you've just won yourself a lifelong friend!"

Within minutes, Oibore found himself surrounded by six or seven men, all part of Kuma's circle of acquaintances.

"Say," said one of them, "think we should invite that other newcomer over?"

"Oh, so you've got another newcomer besides me?" Oibore said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, some down-and-out samurai," Kuma said. "Came in a day or two ago all bloodied up. Hasn't said a word to anyone, hasn't eaten or nothin'. Yeah, we ought to try asking again."

'A bloodied samurai?' Oibore thought. 'It couldn't be….' 

"I'll do it," Oibore said, "as one newcomer to another. Where is this down-and-out samurai?"

They pointed down the alley toward a wall. There he saw a form partially slumped over. As he neared it, in the fading light, he could make out what looked like red hair. His heart started racing. As he got nearer, he saw, on the left cheek, an X-shaped scar. He bent down for a closer look. There was no doubt about it----this bloodied samurai had to be his son-in-law, Himura Kenshin. He was covered in dried blood from a fresh, huge gash across his chest and under his arm, and Oibore could see the remnants of an old bandage just above his waist. It was the location of the bandage Toshiro had told him about two months ago. 

'My god,' Oibore thought. 'He hasn't even fully recovered from Kyoto yet. How did he manage to drag himself here?' Then he stood up and yelled back to his circle of new acquaintances.

"Oi, have you guys seen his condition? He's a mess!"

"Yeah," said Kuma, who was now walking towards him, "but you know the rules here---no one bothers us, we don't bother no one."

"Well, don't you think this is a bit different?" Oibore pressed. "I mean, this guy needs a doctor!"

"Well, then, he should've dragged himself off to one!" said one of the other men, and the rest agreed.

"Oh, well, what the hell," said Oibore, smiling despite his concern. "As one newcomer to another, maybe I'll just take care of him a little."

"You can if you want, old man," said Kuma. "No sweat off our back. By the way, we saved you some food. Thanks for dinner."

Who could think of food at a time like this? Oibore didn't know much about doctoring, but he could tell when a man was in dire straits, and Kenshin fit that description. A quick glance around showed that there was nothing he could use for bandages, and he couldn't afford to rip his own clothes to make any. He did, however, have a handkerchief in his sleeve pocket. 'I can at least use this to clean him up,' Oibore thought quickly. 'I've got to keep that gash from getting infected!'

It may have been 14 years since he had last been at Rakuninmura, but he still remembered every twist and turn, so it didn't take long to find the pipe that provided what little clean water there was. He grabbed one of the small buckets by the pipe, filled it, and ran back to where Kenshin lay. He soaked the handkerchief in water, then started to gently clean the wounds. It was a testament to the critical condition Kenshin was in that, at first, these efforts elicited barely a moan. The work was slow-going, as it took time to loosen the blood that had dried all over his chest and sides, and Oibore had to stop frequently to rinse the handkerchief. After fifteen minutes or so, however, things were looking much better, and he could see that, thankfully, no infection had set in yet. 

Kenshin's eyes started to open slightly. Oibore could see he was trying to focus, but he wasn't succeeding. "Hurts," Kenshin moaned. "No more."

Oibore took Kenshin's hand in his. "Young fellow," he said softly, "you deserve better than this." He spent the night next to Kenshin, looking for all the world like a besotted old man who just couldn't move any farther, but in reality keeping a close eye on the man breathing so raggedly next to him. 

As daylight came, he was able to get a better look at his daughter's husband, and what he saw was not good. There were dark circles under Kenshin's eyes, and his lips were cracked and dry. Oibore remembered the men saying last night that the newcomer hadn't had anything to eat or drink that they knew of, and he quickly determined that Kenshin was becoming dehydrated. So, he took his bloodied handkerchief and the bucket and headed back to the pipe. There he rinsed them both out, then brought a bucket of clean water back to where Kenshin lay. After soaking the handkerchief in the clean water, he gently lifted it to Kenshin's mouth. 

"Here," he said gently. "Just suck on this."

Maybe it was just a reflex, maybe not, but Kenshin allowed the handkerchief into his mouth and sucked weakly on it. Oibore kept this up for several minutes, noting that with each rewetting of the handkerchief, Kenshin's mental state seemed to improve. After about a half an hour of doing this, Kenshin actually opened his eyes and was able to focus. Oibore noticed his hand tighten briefly on the hilt of the sword at his side, a sword that was wrapped in chains.

"Glad to see you come to," Oibore said with a smile.

"Leave me," Kenshin whispered hoarsely. "Not worth it."

"Oho," Oibore laughed, "that's where you're wrong. Looks like you and I are going to be pals for awhile."

As Kenshin closed his eyes once more, Oibore got up to see if he could find a little breakfast.

"Looks like you've found a pet," Kuma chuckled as he saw Oibore walking towards him.

"Oh, well, what the hell," Oibore said with a laugh. "What are old men for except to take care of the young folks. I don't suppose there's a bit of rice left?" 

He gratefully took a tiny dumpling that Kuma offered, then said, "You know, I'll bet there are people worried about this young guy. Maybe when you folks go gambling and drinking today, someone could put out the word?"

Kuma just grunted, but finally he said, "Oh, I suppose."

Oibore took that as a yes, then went back to sit beside Kenshin. He stayed there for the rest of the day and the next, occasionally offering him the wet handkerchief and then, when dinner turned out to be a soup, a bit of soup as well.

On the third day, he heard a commotion at the entrance to Rakuninmura. He got up to see what was going on, only to be pushed roughly aside as a group of residents armed with sticks started chasing a tall man with wild hair. He recognized the man immediately---Kenshin's friend Sano. Sano grabbed Kenshin by his gi, hauling him up to his feet before Oibore could stop him.

"Let's go!" Sano yelled at Kenshin. "Get up! We're going to kill Yukishiro Enishi! We're taking revenge for Jou-chan!"

Megumi, the boy Yahiko, and a young girl he had never seen before rushed up after him. "Sanosuke!" Megumi screamed as Sano punched Kenshin in the face.

The crowd of men started closing in on Sano even as he threatened to beat them up. They stopped when Megumi pulled him away. 

Kenshin slumped back against the wall. "No more," he groaned. "Tired. Let me sleep…."

When Oibore saw Megumi, he hid behind a group of onlookers---he didn't know why he cared, but he didn't want her to know that this was where he was staying. He watched as she and the others left. He mentally thanked Kuma for spreading the word---how else would they have known where to find Kenshin? He decided to pay a visit to the young doctor in the near future, if only to set her mind at ease about Kenshin. 

'Anyway, I can't stay here all the time,' he reminded himself. 'My well-being here depends on what I can bring back to eat!'

He waited until afternoon to leave, to make sure that Kenshin would be all right. He left a bucket of clean water beside him, along with a small cup and the handkerchief. "You just take a sip or two every once in awhile while I'm gone," Oibore whispered into Kenshin's ear. Then he went to Kuma, whom he now considered a friend.

"Kuma," he said with false heartiness, "it's time this old man went and showed you young 'uns how to really scavenge for food! I'll be back in a day or two, but while I'm gone, think you could keep an eye on that young fellow over there? Maybe leave a bit of food or something next to him?"

"He ain't gonna eat it, ya' know," Kuma said, "Seems like a real waste of food, but yeah, I'll do it. You just better come through with something spectacular, otherwise I'm gonna take it outta your hide!" It was said with a smile. 'That old guy's too nice to these bums,' Kuma thought to himself as he watched Oibore walk away.

Japanese Terms:

Bakufu: name for the old Shogunate government.

Maa maa: "Now, now… ."

Author's Note: Some of you asked for two short chapters, some for one long chapter, so I've accommodated all of you by posting Chapters 7 and 8 (the end of the tale) at the same time!

CoConspirator: *clutches handkerchief* Oibore is so fatherly. *blows nose, slowly gathering composure* On a not so sentimental note: Wow, this chapter had an all-star cast, Sano, Megumi, Yahiko, and…..SAITOU!!!!!! (I love Saitou, he's such a jerk!)


	8. Chapter 8

Yukishiro Takuo, known as Oibore, has finally found Kenshin, who lies sick and wounded in Rakuninmura. What do the fates have in store for the two of them? 

This chapter is based on the Jinchuu arc. All quotes from the manga are from the marvelous translations of Maigo-chan (all hail Maigo-chan!).

Disclaimer: Watsuki-sama (and all the media conglomerates) owns the RK characters. I won't make a dime off this….

****

In Search of Family 

Chapter 8

It was a bit of a relief to leave Rakuninmura and reenter the real world, but Oibore wasn't out just to enjoy the sunshine. He needed to earn some money in order to take care of Kenshin properly. In particular, he needed to buy something nourishing to help Kenshin recover from his loss of blood, but that kind of food didn't come cheap. He had only a few coins left and quickly calculated that it would be enough to buy a few scrolls and a little ink. It was a gamble, but he decided that making some calligraphed scrolls to sell was probably the quickest and easiest way for an old man like him to earn some quick cash. 

He headed for the nearest marketplace, made his purchases, then sat himself down at the edge of the area to make the scrolls. It wasn't hard, considering he remembered every haiku he had ever written to sell in Kyoto. Within the space of a few hours, he had made five beautiful scrolls and sold three. Evening was coming, however, and he couldn't take the scrolls back to Rakuninmura with him---they would be stolen in a flash by someone even more desperate than himself. So when a woman came by to look at one of the remaining scrolls and asked how much it cost, he gathered up his courage and said, "Would you be willing to give me a place to sleep tonight in exchange for the scroll? A shed would do…."

The woman looked him over, carefully assessing whether this man was trustworthy or some kind of elderly homicidal maniac. She must have decided the former, for she said, "Well, if you'll agree to make another scroll for my daughter---she's getting married in a few days."

"Of course, of course!" a delighted Oibore answered. "Just tell me what you'd like it to say, and I will compose one just for her!" Then he gathered his things and followed the woman home, where she showed him to a small shed.

"You can sleep here tonight," she said, "but before you do, you'll make that scroll!" which he did. 

The next day he decided he'd use a small portion of his earnings to buy some more scrolls, but his main plan was to visit Megumi. He didn't need an excuse---he had a little money to spare, and he figured that buying a bottle of her wonderful linament would be a good use for it With its potent odor, he figured it was one item that wouldn't be stolen when he got back to Rakuninmura! He worked on his scrolls until close to noon, then headed over to the clinic. He hoped that the noon hour would be slow for her, and he was right---it was Megumi who answered the door when he knocked.

"Oibore-san," she said, smiling this time. She looked at his bag of scrolls and ink, and said, "Looks like you've been busy."

He greeted her, bowing, and said, "Takani-sensei, I have just a little money with me this time, and I would dearly like to buy a bottle of your wonderful linament."

"Ah, you like that linament, do you?" she laughed, and she showed him in. He noticed his scroll hanging prominently by her desk. As she handed him a bottle, she said, "Please let me apologize for my behavior the other day. With everything that's been going on here, you can understand why I was so suspicious…."

"No need to apologize," Oibore said. "I could tell that your friend's death was not the only thing weighing on your mind. Your friend Sano-san told me that your other friend, Himura-san, had disappeared. He seemed very angry about it."

Megumi's eyes took on a very strange look. "We found him, you know, at Rakuninmura." She looked over at Oibore to see what his reaction would be. He feigned surprise.

"He was just sitting there like the living dead," she went on, "like he had given up on life." Her face took on a hard look. "How dare he," she said in a low voice.

"Well, the poor man," said Oibore. "To have something like this happen to him, I'm sure it was devastating."

"Oh, and it's not the first time, either," Megumi broke in. "This Enishi fellow turns out to be the brother of someone he married when he was only 15, and it seems this wife was also killed when she got in the middle of one of his battles."

'So, he finally told his friends about Tomoe,' Oibore noted. Out loud he said, "Perhaps that made it all the worse this time."

"You don't understand, Oibore-san," she retorted quickly. "You could say that in one way or another, it was Kenshin who gave all of us our lives. I was being forced to do something horrible by someone who held me captive, but he and Sano saved me. I wanted to kill myself, but Kenshin taught me that death would bring no atonement for what I had been forced to do. Instead, he showed me that I could atone by saving lives with my medical skills. 

"And that young boy you saw me with at the funeral, Yahiko---he's an orphan who had been forced to be a pickpocket by a gang of thieves. Kenshin rescued him from their hideout and convinced Kaoru to take him in and teach him at her dojo." Wistfully she added, "He was so proud of Yahiko after the fight in Kyoto, and after last week's fight with Enishi's gang." 

Then the fire returned to her voice. "Even Sano---that big rooster-head! He was a fighter for hire who fought out of anger over something that happened during the Bakumatsu, but Kenshin convinced him that protecting others was a better use for his fighting skills. Don't you see, Kenshin's the one who gave all of us our lives back---he has no right to give up on his own life now!"

When she finished, she seemed surprised at her own tirade. She put her hand to her head and sat down. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I don't know what's gotten into me. I saw him there. I should have treated his wounds. I didn't. He kept telling us to go away…." Her voice trailed off.

After a few moments of silence, Oibore said gently, "Perhaps he needs time to heal. Not his physical wounds---those will take care of themselves, I'm sure---but the mental ones. He failed to protect the one he loved most, and now he may feel like he has no purpose in life. It will take time for him to find his answers."

"You know, you still remind me of my old grandfather," Megumi said with a sad smile. "He would have told me the same thing. You're right, of course. It's just so hard for us because he won't let us help him."

Oibore rose to leave. "Takani-sensei, thanks for the linament, and please, have faith in your friend. He just needs a little push and a little time."

"Call me Megumi," she said, as she walked him to the door. "By the way, if you don't mind my asking, Oibore couldn't be your real name. What _is_ your real name?"

Oibore chuckled. No way he was answering that one! "You know," he said, "it's been so long since I used my real name, I've forgotten what it was!"

He walked back to the marketplace near Rakuninmura to sell the rest of his scrolls, then headed back to the shed where he had slept the night before.

The following morning, it was time to take his earnings and buy some food---some fresh fruit, vegetables, and tofu for Kenshin and himself, and some dumplings, soba noodles, and preserved fish for his circle of friends. He also bought a fish hook and some string, then headed down to the river, where he made himself a simple fishing pole. 'A fresh fish would really be sweet,' he thought, but by noontime he hadn't caught a thing. So, he decided to call it quits and head back to Rakuninmura. He had been away nearly three days; he hoped Kuma had kept his promise to look out for Kenshin.

He was singing and swinging his fishing pole, which now held the bags with his purchases, as he neared his destination when he saw a young boy and an older girl trying to push their way in. 'A couple of young 'uns come to join us?' he wondered. 

Then he saw who it was---Yahiko and a girl in a rather skimpy outfit. Despite their small size and young age, they both put up a good fight against the swarm of men trying to keep them out, but even skill could not overcome ten heavy men piling on top of them in a heap. Oibore decided to help them out. Pulling the dumplings from his bag, he walked nonchalantly over to the melee and scattered his treats on the ground.

"Looks like fun!" he yelled to the men in the heap. "It's been three days since I saw y'all. I brought some dumplings from town!"

As he knew they would, the men got up in a flash and headed for the food. As the two youths picked themselves up, he heard Yahiko call the girl Misao. Wasn't that the name of the ninja girl who went to get the diary from Toshiro? 'That would explain the outfit,' he chuckled.

"You all right, young'uns?" he asked them as they dusted themselves off.

"Who are you?" Yahiko snapped, looking Oibore up and down with distaste.

"Why, I'm the nicest old guy you'll ever meet!" Oibore replied with a laugh. To himself he thought, 'This boy sure has spunk!' 

Misao looked at him suspicously, but decided to ignore him as she and Yahiko went over to Kenshin. Oibore didn't want to look like he was hovering, so he stayed a short distance away until it looked like the two were finished. As he walked over, he overheard Yahiko say, "…. I'll wield my sword for the weak and those who suffer, just like you did. I'm not coming back here again…."

The two walked off without even a glance back. By this time, Kuma and his friends had come up and were trying to peek into Oibore's bags.

"Maa, maa," laughed Oibore, "can't a man even have half a second to himself before being panhandled? Yes, I've got some goodies for all of us to eat tonight---it'll be a wonderful, marvelous, fantastic dinner, I promise!"

There was general approval at this prospect. As the group scattered, Kuma pulled Oibore to the side and said, "I did what you asked---I left some food and water for your pal there, but I don't think he had much. He's not doin' real well, 'ya know?"

"Kuma, I appreciate everything you've done," Oibore said warmly. "Actually, I've found some stuff I hope will help him recover more quickly." He showed Kuma the fruit, vegetables, and tofu. "I wasn't planning to give any of this to the other fellows, unless I have leftovers, but I did want to give some to you in thanks." He handed Kuma some plums and carrots. "I'll save some tofu for you for later."

Kuma nodded and took his gifts. "It's probably a good thing you're taking him under your wing," he said. "With that gash and all, if he croaked here, the police would be down on us so fast…. I'll help you out if you need it."

Oibore thanked him profusely, then walked over to where Kenshin lay slumped against the wall.

"So, young fellow," he said to the motionless form, "more guests? That's a fine boy there. Now, I've been living in places like this for some time, but you're the first I've seen to have a fine boy like that come from the outside asking after him. You know, I wonder if you didn't come here a little too soon."

"Tired," Kenshin muttered. "Not worth it."

"Now, I wouldn't say that, exactly," Oibore continued. "I hear there are friends of yours waiting for you."

Kenshin coughed, grimacing in pain. Oibore took a good look at him. There were no more circles under his eyes, and his lips weren't parched anymore, so at least he had overcome the dehydration. He felt Kenshin's forehead---a slight fever, but not too bad, considering. The gash was oozing somewhat, but that was to be expected. He put his ear to Kenshin's chest and heard only his stomach grumbling, but no problems with his lungs. These were all good signs, and a sign that he'd better whip up some food that a man as weak as Kenshin could eat.

So, he borrowed a knife from Kuma and started cutting up the fruit, vegetables, and tofu, then grabbed two flat stones and crushed the food into a kind of puree. Then he took his handkerchief and put some of the crushed food on it for Kenshin to suck. At first, Kenshin refused, turning his head away, but Oibore said sternly, "Young fellow, you don't know it, but you're too important to me for you not to eat this!" At that, Kenshin allowed the handkerchief into his mouth and swallowed the food.

Oibore continued this off and on all afternoon, being careful not to give Kenshin too much at one time. After awhile, he noticed that Kenshin actually seemed to look forward to eating; at least he wasn't trying to turn away anymore. "You're doing fine, young fellow," Oibore said quietly. "Your friends would be pleased if they knew." Kenshin seemed to relax a little at that.

Now it was close to dinnertime, so Oibore took his leave and brought his bag of goodies over to where Kuma and his friends were gathering for dinner. 

"Fish, rice, and soba tonight!" Oibore sang out to them. "It's my wonderful, marvelous, fantastic dinner, and there's lots of it!"

"How'd you scavenge this kind of stuff, old man?" Kuma marveled. "You told us you'd show us up, and you sure did!"

"Oh, it's just my beautiful face and wonderful personality that charms all the young women in town," Oibore laughed. He enjoyed himself immensely as the group traded tall tales around the cooking fire.

After the meal, Oibore settled himself back down next to Kenshin and started thinking over everything that had happened over the past few days. Kenshin was obviously in no condition---or mood---to talk, and certainly in no condition to be told who Oibore really was. Still he had found out a lot about his son-in-law, and what he found, he liked. It seemed that Kenshin had learned a lot during his 10 years of wandering. Hadn't Megumi said that it was Kenshin who convinced her that atonement came from living her life to help others, not through killing herself? That was the lesson he had been taught by the young monk in Aizu so many years ago. And he had stayed true to his vow to Tomoe, to never kill again. 'I'll wield my sword for the weak and those who suffer, just like you did,' Yahiko had said that afternoon. How hard had it been for Kenshin to overcome the killer within him in order to achieve this? "My son," Oibore whispered to Kenshin, "I'm proud of you."

Oibore awoke the next morning to find two violet eyes staring unsteadily at him. "Well, young man, you're looking better," he said with a smile.

"Who…?" Kenshin tried to speak. "Who….are you?"

Oibore could have told him right then and there exactly who he was, but he was beginning to realize the wisdom of what Toshiro had told him when he returned to Kyoto—-"This is something only you should do, in your own way and in your own time." This clearly wasn't the right time. So he said, "I'm just an old man trying to help."

As he started preparing a puree of tofu and fruit for Kenshin, it occurred to him that he might never be able to come right out and tell Kenshin who he really was, but did that really matter? As long as he fulfilled his promise to Tomoe to look after her husband, then he would be satisfied. What else was a father---or a father-in-law---for, after all? But that didn't mean he couldn't drop some hints. 'Time to get you thinking,' Oibore decided. 

"You know," he said conversationally to Kenshin as he scooped out some puree with a spoon, "farmers say they have the best job in the world. They say it's because they don't take life, they bring forth life. Pretty grandiose thinking, if you ask me." It was a quote he remembered from Tomoe's diary. He looked sideways at Kenshin to see if there would be any reaction. He was not disappointed. He heard a small gasp and saw Kenshin squeeze his eyes closed. 

"Tomoe," Kenshin whispered. Tears started to appear at the corners of his eyes.

After Kenshin had eaten, Oibore decided it was time to get him up and walking, preferably over to the water pipe for a quick shower. He started trying to lift him, but Kenshin didn't want to move. Luckily, Kuma was walking by. He took Kenshin by one arm, and Oibore took him by the other.

"No!" Kenshin said in the strongest voice Oibore had yet heard. "No! I don't want to move!"

"Hey, you've got to walk around, Red," said Kuma. "If you die here, with that gash and all, the police will think we did it!"

As the two men walked with the now compliant Kenshin, Oibore noticed several more things about his son-in-law. He was, indeed, very short---in fact, not much taller than his daughter had been---but his stature belied muscles that were rock-hard even after nearly a week of convalescence in less than ideal circumstances. Oibore knew that Kenshin must be about 28 years old, yet he looked much younger. And once they removed his gi for the shower, he saw the scars, evidence of too hard a life for a man so young. The water turned out to be very restorative, much to their consternation.

"Too cold!" Kenshin sputtered as they poured water over his head. He tried weakly to push them away. "No more! No more!"

Oibore and Kuma couldn't help laughing. "Hey, Red, you wouldn't say that if you could smell yourself!" Kuma chortled.

They could tell they had tired Kenshin out with the walk and the shower, so they brought him back to the wall to sleep. Oibore took up his fishing pole and, leaving Kenshin in the care of Kuma, went off to catch some free dinner. By the end of the day, Kenshin was able to walk a little unassisted, and he was more alert. "He's been muttering names and things," Kuma reported to Oibore. 

The next morning, Oibore decided he needed more information if he was going to be able to help Kenshin find his way back to life. So, close to lunchtime, he decided to drop by the Kamiya dojo. When he got there, no one was home, so he sat outside the gate to wait. About half an hour later, he heard voices. 

"….and if I ever see another riverbank as long as I live, it'll be too soon!" he heard Yahiko moan.

"Don't be such a wimp," he heard Misao say as she whacked him on the head. "Kaoru's alive, and we've got to find her!"

They stopped dead in their tracks when they saw Oibore.

"What are you doing here?" Yahiko asked coldly.

"Oh, just on my weekly begging rounds," Oibore laughed. "Give me something?"

As he hoped, they ended up inviting him in for a meal. 'Kaoru alive?' Oibore thought as he followed them into the house. 'Did I hear that right?' As they led him into the main room, he noticed on the table something familiar---Tomoe's old, worn diary. 'If only it had gotten to Enishi in time,' he thought sadly.

The meal was simple, but it was really the small talk Oibore wanted anyway, and there was plenty of that. The ninja girl, in particular, seemed to talk nonstop about everything and nothing. As she and Yahiko took the dishes back to the kitchen, however, he overheard more of their conversation. 

"I still can't believe that fanatic Enishi used a doll to convince us Kaoru was dead," Misao was saying. "What kind of a creep is he, anyhow?"

Finally, Oibore took his leave and thanked them for their hospitality. Then he started walking back to Rakuninmura. Kaoru not dead? He needed to get Kenshin moving, and fast! As he passed the marketplace, he smelled perfumes from one of the shops and thought, 'That's it!' He went in and, using the last of his money, purchased a bottle of white plum perfume. 

When he returned to Rakuninmura, he saw Kenshin still sitting against the wall. Some men were standing around him, calling out, "Hey! Isn't it about time you had a drink with us?" but they got no answer. Oibore walked over and started uncorking the perfume. 

"Boy, that stinks!" one of the men said. The others started holding their noses. 

"Take it away," Kenshin said faintly. "That scent….please, take it away…."

Oibore smiled. "White plum scent always brings back memories," he said, looking down at Kenshin. "So, it reminds you of something too? They say it has the power to soothe the heart. Why don't you try to put up with it for awhile?"

It worked like a charm. As the day wore on, he could see Kenshin struggling with memories and could hear him call out names. From time to time, when the memories seemed to be too painful, he would go over and pat Kenshin's hand. When the memories seemed to be too physically intense, he would wipe Kenshin's brow. After awhile, Kenshin slumped over, exhausted from the mental exertion.

It was the following day that Kenshin finally awoke from his nightmare. Oibore could see that Kenshin's mind was churning, that he was struggling with himself over things that had happened in the past, when suddenly there was a commotion again at the entrance to Rakuninmura. It was the young girl who had accompanied Megumi that first time.

"Go home," one of the men was yelling at her. "You deaf, little girl? This is no place for outsiders!"

The girl barely managed to say, "Kenshin…."

"What, the new guy? You wasted a trip. There's nothing left of him. He's hollow."

Kuma came to her rescue. "Guess the samurai gets another guest," he said gently, and he took her to where Kenshin lay.

"Kenshin?" she said tentatively, but there was no response.

"Kenshin, please!" She started to cry. "One of the men they arrested last week got out and started attacking people. Yahiko's fighting him to keep him from reaching the city, but he's still not completely healed from before, and the other man is too strong and too big. Oh, Kenshin, please! Please help him!"

When there was still no response, Oibore patted her on the shoulder and said, "That's enough, little one," and asked Kuma to show her out. Then he sat down next to Kenshin and said, "Now, what was that all about?" He saw Kenshin grip his sword.

"I told them to leave me alone," Kenshin said, in a voice that was stronger than it had been. "I told them I was tired. I told them. It's no use. I can't find the answer---how to atone for the crimes I committed as a hitokiri. I can't find it!"

"Is that so," Oibore retorted. "Even with your weak, confused heart, isn't there one thing you won't let yourself throw away? Whatever anyone says, that's your only truth!" He picked up the bottle of white plum perfume and closed it. "I think we've had enough of the past. Now it's time for you to return to the people who never stopped believing in you. They're waiting for you!"

He watched Kenshin for what seemed like an eternity. There seemed to be a battle taking place in Kenshin's mind, a battle he could see played out on his face. Suddenly, Kenshin grabbed the hilt of his sword and pulled it free, breaking the chains that held it. He looked as if he had just awakened from a trance. In a burst of energy that seemed to come from nowhere, he rose to his feet and glanced around. Then he was gone. 

Oibore wept softly as he watched Kenshin disappear around a corner. "I'm sorry, Kuma," he sniffled as he apologized for the tears. "I guess I'm just an old softy."

Kuma came and put his arm around Oibore's shoulder. After a moment, Kuma asked, "So how come that rooster-headed guy came talking about revenge and got nothing?" 

Oibore thought for a moment. "That wasn't his truth," he finally answered. "They couldn't reach his heart that way. But if someone came asking for help, no matter how small, they'd reach him. That was his truth." 

Then he dried his eyes and said, "Well, Kuma, my job here is done. I think I'll go wander back to Kyoto. I might be back, I might not." And with that, he packed up his few belongings and left. Slowly he walked the long distance to the Yokohama station, where his return train ticket was waiting.

He didn't remember much about the train ride home. He was so tired out from his time with Kenshin that he slept the entire way. It was evening when he got back to Kyoto, so he headed straight for his room, ate some leftover food, and went right to sleep.

The next morning, however, he was off as soon as possible to the monastery---he had so much to tell Toshiro! Along the way, he picked some flowers, which he put on Tomoe's grave. Unlike his last return from Tokyo, this time his heart felt light. He had finally gotten to meet his son-in-law and had helped him in his hour of need. 'I hope he finds his Kaoru,' he thought. 'If she is indeed alive, I hope she brings him the happiness he deserves.' He realized that probably he would never meet Kenshin again, and that probably Kenshin would never know who he really was, but that was okay. Kenshin had had enough of the past---it was time for him to live for the future. 

As he was thinking about this, he absent-mindedly started fiddling with his hair and realized he was still wearing Tomoe's hairpin. 'Time to return this to you, dear daughter,' he decided, and he placed it at the foot of the gravestone.

It was only a week after his return that he heard the news through Ko---the police in Tokyo had nabbed an illegal arms dealer named Yukishiro Enishi, but he had escaped and was presumed to be in the Tokyo area. 

"It's your son," Ko said. "I know he's done a lot of really terrible things, but if you think you should go to Tokyo to find him…."

Oibore wasn't sure what to think. "You know, Ko, I'm an old man, and I'm tired. I don't know what to do. I certainly can't face walking that Tokaido Road, and I've used up all my money…."

Ko handed him a packet. "Open it," he commanded.

In it was enough money for a round-trip train ticket. "You've been a great friend to me all these years," Ko said. "There's not many who can put up with all my talk and bluster, but you've been like a brother. Take it. Just let me know when you get back, because I want to be the first with the news!"

Oibore didn't know what to say. He hugged his friend, then left to make the arrangements. He stopped by to see Toshiro as well, for moral support. The next day, he was back in Tokyo and on his way to the only place he could afford to stay---Rakuninmura. 'I wonder what Kuma will think when he sees me again,' he thought, smiling.

As he rounded the corner towards Rakuninmura, he started singing as usual, "Oh, well, what the hell…. Oh, well, what the hell…," then stopped dead in his tracks. Just inside the entrance sat a dirty, bloodstained young man with white hair and glasses. In his hand was a small black book---a diary that Oibore recognized instantly. He sat himself down next to the man.

"New here, eh, youngster?" he said with a smile. "You know, I wonder if we haven't met before…."

****

The End

Japanese Terms:

Bakumatsu: Japanese civil war.

Author's Note: Our tale, dear readers, has come to an end. Readers of the manga, in fact, will recognize this ending. Two reviewers, however---EK and Enishi---have asked to see Oibore's small book of _Legends of the Hitokiri Battousai_. Therefore, I will supply an epilogue to this tale for those who wish to read it. Look for the epilogue in about a week.

Many, many thanks to my wonderful reviewers: Enishi, Crystal, Naomi, EK, Naela, Firuze Khanume, Xavien, Crazy Girl Person, Selene, and Calger489 (who gave especially helpful comments). I never got to thank the one reviewer of my first fanfic, a one-shot humorous piece called _Fireflies in the Grass_, so I thank her now---Mae (I hope you didn't choke too much from laughing!). And a special thank-you to fanfic author Hitokiri Gentatsu, who was kind enough to lend me the character Haishidiya.

CoConspiriator: In Search of Family…Complete!!! Thanks to all those who reveiwed, please stay on the lookout for _Legends of the Hitokiri Battousai. _It's sure to be bunches of fun!! Well, until we meet again….*wanders off singing* 'Oh well, what the hell…..Oh well…'


	9. Chapter 9: Epilogue

It's been six years since Jinchuu, and Kenshin has finally found happiness. Now Misao arrives with a mysterious parcel for Kenshin. What will this parcel reveal about the rurouni's past? This epilogue, a story-within-a-story, is for all of you who were eager to read Oibore's _Legends of the Hitokiri Battousai_.

(The legends include three tales you will recognize and three tales that are brand new. If you wish to read the legends without the story-within-a-story, you will find it attached as Chapter 10, under its own title.)

This story is based more on the manga version than the anime/OAV version of the entire Kenshin saga.

Attentive readers will note that in this story, Kenji is a normal toddler, not some kind of baby psychotic. In the manga, Watsuki-sama mentions briefly that 2-year-old Kenji 'hates his dad.' Anyone with a little intelligence---except, obviously, the folks at Sony---knows that most toddlers around the age of 2 'hate' their fathers (fear of separation from Mommy is the culprit), but by around age 3 that all changes. So, I'm correcting a gross injustice!

Disclaimer: All hail Watsuki-sama---he (and all the media conglomerates) own the RK characters. I won't make a dime off this….

****

In Search of Family

By

Conspirator and CoConspirator

Epilogue

Six years had passed since that awful day in 1878---six years since Yukishiro Enishi had 'killed' Kaoru and Kenshin had lost his will to live. Little could Enishi have known the unintended consequences of his 'earthly justice,' for when Kenshin emerged from his own private hell, he realized just how much he needed Kaoru at his side. Within months of Enishi's defeat, the two were married, and in less than two years, they became the proud parents of a red-haired baby boy. Yahiko had moved into Sano's old room at the boarding house, but the now strapping 16-year-old continued to mooch off Kenshin and Kaoru (maybe it was the influence of being in Sano's old room!) and to train with Kaoru; he was now an assistant master of Kamiya Kasshin Ryu himself. Life, Kenshin decided, had turned out pretty well after all.

On this particular day, life actually was rather hectic. Kenshin was trying to finish the laundry, but a certain three-year-old imp named Kenji was determined to help. It hadn't been so long ago that Kenji had been in the throes of the 'terrible twos' and refused to have anything to do with his father. Now that he was the ripe old age of 3, Kenji had switched course and decided instead to have nothing to do with his mother. Water-play has attracted children from time immemorial, and water-play was exactly what Kenji thought doing the laundry was all about.

"Look, a tsunami!" Kenji cried out with glee as he splashed his father with soapy water. Kenshin responded by whipping out a wet yukata from the bottom of the bucket and flinging his own wall of water at Kenji. Kenji was so surprised by the soaking that he fell in a heap on top of his father. As Kaoru and Yahiko wandered out of the dojo to see what all the noise was about, they found the two redheads hugging and laughing and totally wet from head to toe. 

"Men!" Kaoru muttered to herself with a smile. "They're all alike---they're all children." 

"What was that?" asked Yahiko. He was not about to take that kind of insult from anyone, especially not from Kaoru! "We're all children, did you say?" And with that, he whipped out his bokken and tried to get in one good whack. He would have succeeded, too, except that Kenji chose that very moment to run over to his mother and got in the way.

Kaoru took one look at her muddy son and yelled over to her husband, "Oi! Kenshin! Better get cleaned up. Our guests will be arriving in less than an hour!"

'Kuso!' Kenshin thought. 'I forgot all about that!' Sano and Megumi were due to arrive today from Aizu. Sano had come back from his world travels just a year ago and had settled again in Tokyo, but he kept taking long trips to Aizu to visit his 'fox,' as Sano liked to call Megumi. Kenshin had been overjoyed at Sano's return. He had missed having a friend like Sano around, a friend he could hang out and drink with, a friend he could trust with his life. As for Megumi, she was still the best doctor he had ever met and a good friend as well. He knew that Kaoru felt the same, and that she secretly harbored the wish that Sano and Megumi would just admit their feelings and get married. Kenshin quickly finished rinsing and hanging the laundry, then scooped up his muddy son and trotted off to the bath to clean him up. Before the hour was out, the two of them were freshly washed, dressed, and ready for company.

Their guests arrived by mid-morning, but it turned out to be more than just Sano and Megumi. 

"Oi! Jou-chan! Kenshin! Look who we found!" Sano sang out as he opened the gate.

There, standing with Sano and Megumi, was Makimachi Misao, all smiles and jumping up and down with excitement. 

"Surprise! Surprise!" she yelled as she rushed forward to hug Kaoru. "I ran into these guys at the train station, so we shared a carriage to town, and here I am!"

It was hugs and kisses all around, with little Kenji tugging at everyone's clothes for a little attention. Kaoru scooped him up so he could get in on the fun, then said, "What brings you to Tokyo, Misao? We're so thrilled to see you!"

"Well," Misao replied, "actually I guess I could've sent this, but I decided it was a good excuse for a trip, so I brought it myself!" She held out a parcel and handed it to Kenshin. "It's for you, Himura. There was a monk in Kyoto named Toshiro who was a friend of yours, right? Well, seems he died a few weeks ago, and he left this to you in his will. They remembered me from when I went to get Tomoe's diary six years ago, so they asked me to deliver it to you."

"Toshiro?" Kenshin said softly. "He died?" 

"Wasn't that the nice old monk you introduced me to when we visited Tomoe's grave that first time?" Kaoru asked.

Kenshin nodded. Then, shaking himself from his thoughts, he said, "Come on, let's go inside and have some tea. We've all got some catching up to do!"

As they walked inside, he started opening the parcel. In it was a thin book wrapped with a letter written in Toshiro's careful hand.

"My dear Himura-kun," the letter read. "This book has special meaning for me, and it will for you, too. When I die, I wish it to be yours. When you see it, you may be tempted to throw it away even before you open its covers. I beg you, please read this book from cover to cover, and leave nothing out. May the gods grant you peace and happiness---Your friend, Toshiro."

As Kenshin removed the letter surrounding the book, the title came into view: _Legends of the Hitokiri Battousai_. The author was a man named Oibore. Kenshin froze when he saw the title; all warmth and joy drained from his face. 

"Hey, Kenshin, what's the matter?" Yahiko asked as saw Kenshin's expression suddenly change. "Here, let me see it!" He grabbed eagerly for the book, but Kenshin held it back.

"No." Kenshin clutched the book tightly. 

"Come on, let's see it," Sano said as he came up behind Kenshin. Sano took the letter, which had fallen to the floor, and read it. Then he bent over sideways to read the title of the book, which was still clenched tightly in Kenshin's hand.

"Kenshin," he said, "this is the monk who helped you before you started wandering, isn't it---the one you told me was like a father to you? He wouldn't have written this letter if there wasn't a good reason."

Yahiko managed to pry the book out of Kenshin's hand and went to sit in the corner. He opened the book and started reading out loud.

"'Tales of the Hitokiri Battousai, by Oibore'," he read. "'Published in Kyoto, in Meiji 2, 1869.' Hey, you know anyone named Oibore?"

Kenshin stood frozen to the spot, but he answered slowly, "I don't know. There's something about the name, but I can't place it."

"Oibore?" repeated Megumi. "I remember an Oibore. I wonder if it's the same man. Kaoru, do you remember my telling you that an old man came to Tokyo looking for you while you were in Kyoto during the Shishio affair? He called himself Oibore. He came back, too, right around when we all thought you had been killed by Enishi. He's the one who made that lovely scroll that hangs by my desk. I had no idea he wrote something about dear Ken-san…."

Dear Ken-san looked sick. 

Yahiko continued to read as everyone settled down to listen and sip their tea.

****

Introduction

"'During the Bakumatsu,'" he read, "'there was one name above all others that struck fear into the hearts of those living in Kyoto—Hitokiri Battousai. He has been called a god or a demon not of this world, who had eyes that burned with the fires of hell and could bring lightening down from the sky with a stroke of his katana.'" 

Kenshin spit out his tea at those words.

"'Others claim he was a real human possessed of superhuman abilities, who could unsheath his sword quicker than the eye could see and could disappear from sight just as quickly.'" 

Sano thumped Kenshin on the back at that. 

"'He has been called a bloodthirsty killer who enjoyed the sounds and smell of death. Others claim he was a reluctant assassin, only meting out death to those the Ishin Shishi deemed to deserve "heaven's justice." Here are six tales of the Hitokiri Battousai. They are all based on stories from people who saw him or knew him. Read them and decide for yourselves, dear readers, what kind of man the Hitokiri Battousai really was.'"

"Please, Yahiko, stop," Kenshin said in a cold voice. Why, now that he had truly found happiness for the first time in his life, did this book have to show up? And why would Toshiro—such a kind, gentle man---want to put him through this kind of anguish?

Kaoru took his hand. She had been bouncing Kenji on her knee, but Kenji leaned over until he had successfully transferred to Kenshin's lap and wrapped his arms around him. Wet kisses started covering Kenshin's stony face.

"Anata," Kaoru said gently, "Toshiro would never harm you. His letter says it's important for you to read this, so it must be important. What better time and place, anyway, than with our closest and dearest friends."

"Yeah," said Yahiko eagerly, "and anyway, I want to read what people who saw you way back then really had to say!"

'Way back then?' Kenshin muttered to himself. 'What am I, some kind of relic?' Then he sighed, and in a resigned voice he said aloud, "Read, if you must." 

Yahiko picked up the book once again and started reading.

****

Origins of the Hitokiri Battousai

"'In the spring of 1863, as soon as the snow had melted from the passes, a small, red-haired boy descended from the mountains outside of Kyoto. He was wearing the clothes of no known clan, and at his side he carried a full-sized katana. To those who knew no better, it looked more like the katana carried the boy rather than the other way around, so when he found his way to the camp of Takasugi Shinsaku and announced that he wanted to join his private army, the Kiheitai, the men laughed. "Boy," one of them said, "if you can even pull that sword from its saya, we'll be amazed!" The boy's eyes glinted with fire, and before the man could even take a breath, the boy had not only pulled out his sword, but had it against the man's throat. "I want to join the Kiheitai," the boy repeated. "Do you believe me now?" That they did, so they took him to Takasugi.'"

Kaoru glanced over to see how Kenshin was taking this and saw the faintest hint of a smile hovering on his lips. Yahiko continued.

"'When Takasugi saw him, he asked, "Just how old are you, boy?" The boy answered, "Thirteen, sir." Takasugi couldn't believe this because the boy looked like he was no more than 10 or 11.'"

"Gosh, Kenshin, you must've been a real runt if you looked that young!" Yahiko snickered. Kenshin glared at him. Yahiko went on reading.

"The boy then said, "I am 13, and I am a master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. I wish to wield my sword to protect the weak and bring peace to the oppressed. I wish to join your Kiheitai." Takasugi was astonished at such words coming from so small a boy, but he decided to treat the request with as much respect as if it had come from a grown man. He took aside his best swordsman, Kagemiru Shinzui, and said, "What do you know of this school of swordsmanship? I've never heard of it." The swordsman answered, "Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu was supposedly invented nearly 300 years ago and was said to be the most feared style of swordsmanship, but that's just legend. I didn't know it really existed. Let the boy and me have a fight, and we'll see what he's made of." So Takasugi turned back to the boy and said, "Boy, you will fight my best swordsman, Kagemiru Shinzui. If you can fight him to a draw or beat him, then you may join the Kiheitai. But this battle will not be to the death---I can't afford to lose even one swordsman!"

"'So the boy and Kagemiru faced off. Kagemiru was a master of the Jigen style, so he decided to spar with the boy the way he would spar with any talented, 13-year-old Jigen student. So he unsheathed his sword and ran towards the boy, intending to swing upward and out to knock the sword from the boy's hand. As he swung his sword, however, his target disappeared in a blur, only to reappear behind him. Kagemiru pivoted around, this time deciding not to hold back and intending to land a blow with the flat of his sword against the boy's chest. But as he neared the boy, the boy disappeared once again. Kagemiru stopped dead in his tracks, looking all around to find him. Suddenly, a mighty yell came from above his head. As he looked up, he saw the boy descend from the heavens, blade flashing. Before he had time to counter the attack or even to blink his eyes, the boy had the blade against his neck. Kagemiru knew that if this had been a real fight, his head and his body would no longer be enjoying their intimate connection. "This fight," the boy said cooly, "is over."

"'Not long after this, Katsura Kogoro, head of the Chousu Ishin Shishi, came to visit Takasugi. As he and his aides watched the men of the Kiheitai practice, he noticed the boy among the others. The practice involved attacking a target, a wooden post wrapped with rope. One of Katsura's aides called down to the boy, "Hey, little dumpling, I'll give you a ryo if you can cut that in half," thinking that this would be a very funny joke. Instead, the boy cut the target in half in one stroke, then smashed the other half to pieces with his saya. Then the boy walked up to the aide and held out his hand, saying, "One ryo, please." Katsura turned to Takasugi and said, "I must bring this boy with me to Kyoto. He will be the salvation of the Ishin Shishi." And that is how the boy became the shadow assassin known as the Hitokiri Battousai. This tale was told to me by Kagemiru Shinzui himself.'"

"Wow!" said Yahiko. "I've heard of this guy Kagemiru. You really beat him when you were only 13?" Kenshin nodded his head ever so slightly, his eyes hidden by his bangs. 

"Yeah, wow!" chimed in Misao. "That story is so cool, Himura! And I'll bet you were sooooo cute when you were little, too!" Much feminine giggling followed that remark.

Kenshin glowered.

Kenji had sat quietly throughout the whole long story, and that was too much for him. He squirmed out of Kenshin's lap and ran around the room before heading over to Yahiko, where he took up residence on the teenager's lap. He took hold of the book and gave it a good look. "No pictures?" He pouted for a minute, then said, "Oh, well, that's okay. Tell me more story, Yako-nii!"

As Kenji was working off his energy, Kaoru took the opportunity to bring in some rice cakes. Sano used the break to glance over to Kenshin, who just looked stoic.

"Hey, Kenshin, don't look so glum!" Sano laughed. "This is interesting!" Megumi elbowed him in the ribs. "Hey, ow!" he cried. "What'd 'ya do that for?" 

Finally, everyone settled down again, and Yahiko continued to read.

****

The Hitokiri Battousai Strikes

"'The Hitokiri Battousai did not choose whom to strike---those names were given to him secretly, in a black envelope. On this particular night, the name was that of one of the most powerful daimyo in all Japan, a man who was considered to be one of the top military strategists of the Shogunate. It was a bitterly cold winter night. The daimyo and his bodyguard of 10 men had just left an important meeting with the Shogun himself when a voice, cold as ice, was heard, saying, "It is time for you to pay for your crimes." There was no one to be seen, so the men started looking all around. 

"'Suddenly, one of them pointed up at the rooftops. In the dark, all that could be seen were two eyes glowing with the fires of hell. Then, vengeance streaked down from the sky as the Hitokiri Battousai flew into the midst of his enemies. His flaming sword seemed to be everywhere at once, striking dead first the two men in front of him with one mighty swing, then the man behind him as he brought his sword back behind him. Then he ran towards the three men guarding the daimyo, who stood shivering with fright. As the bodyguards started their attack in an attempt to save their lord, the Hitokiri Battousai suddenly seemed to disappear from sight, only to reappear behind the daimyo. Before the daimyo even had time to realize what had happened, the Hitokiri's sword had split him in two. Seconds later, the three surprised bodyguards were dead as well, killed by a circular slash of the Hitokiri's blade. Then he whirled around to face the four bodyguards to the rear. Raising his sword high over his head, he shouted and then brought the sword swinging to the ground, causing the earth itself to open up and swallow the men. Before he disappeared from sight, the Hitokiri Battousai pulled a piece of paper from his sleeve and left it at the bloody scene. "Heaven's justice," the note read. Then he was gone. All this took less than five minutes. This tale was told to me by the one man who escaped, who wishes to remain anonymous.'"

As Yahiko stopped reading, all eyes turned to Kenshin, who, sometime during the tale, had turned his back to the group and had his head in his hands. 

"Kenshin?" Kaoru said softly. There was no response. "Kenshin?" she said again. Still no response. She reached over, gently took his hand, and squeezed it. A weak squeeze was the reply. Then she leaned over to look at his face; there were tears running down his cheeks. 

"Does the end justify the means?" he asked softly, so that only Kaoru could hear. "I killed so many…."

Suddenly, Kenji jumped up and ran over to Kenshin. "Oto-san! Oto-san!" he called out. "You're too big to cry! Kenji will make it all better!" and he proceeded to take his sleeve to try to dry Kenshin's eyes. Unfortunately, he wasn't quite tall enough and in the process of trying to reach Kenshin's eyes, he managed merely to push Kenshin over, with Kenji falling on top of him. Kenshin sat up, a smile slowly appearing on his face. "Thank you, Kenji," he whispered. "You're a big help to Oto-san."

"Can I go on?" an annoyed Yahiko asked as the commotion died down. "I'll stop if you want, but these stories are really interesting!"

Kenshin knew it was useless to protest. "Just keep reading," he said quietly.

****

The Two Hitokiri

"'One rainy spring evening, a young red-haired samurai helped a tavern owner by throwing out some ruffians who were bothering one of the customers. The tavern-owner's wife watched as he left walking down the street, when suddenly she saw a huge man with two swords on chains stand in his way. In a deep voice the man called out, "Hitokiri Battousai, I have been waiting for you. I'll have your life." The woman thought the fight would be over quickly because the red-haired man was not even half as tall as the attacker. 

Quicker than the eye could see, the attacker's two swords went flying out at the Battousai, who immediately whipped out his katana, sending the swords flying back towards their owner. A fierce battle ensued, with swords flashing and clashing, but no blood spilled. Then, without warning, the huge man jumped to the roof and sent down one of his swords so that the chain wrapped completely around his young opponent. The Battousai's eyes glowed with fire as he was totally trapped by the chain, but with superhuman strength he pulled on the chain, thus bringing down the attacker's other sword. As the attacker leaped down to confront him, the Battousai cleaved the attacker in half with that second sword. Blood fell in the alley as thick as the rain. It was learned later that the man who attacked the Battousai that night was the Shogunate's most feared assassin, Murakami Rensato.

"'As the Battousai knelt after the battle to catch his breath, he suddenly heard the voice of a young woman who had come upon the scene. As he turned and walked toward her, she fainted. A rule of the hitokiri is never to leave a witness, but he broke the rule. Instead of killing her, he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the inn where he lived. The innkeeper was annoyed, saying, "What's with you men? You kill all day, then expect to have pleasure at night?" But the Battousai said, "No, no, she fainted in the street, and I couldn't just leave her there! Please take care of her." Then he left. This tale was told to me by Kazuko, the tavern-owners' wife, and Okami, the innkeeper.'"

"That's how I met Tomoe," Kenshin said softly, breaking the silence that followed the reading.

"Yeah, we know," Yahiko said matter-of-factly.

"What?" Misao shouted. "You read that diary when we had it at your house, didn't you!" In a flash, she jumped up and placed herself in front of Yahiko, kunai glinting in her hands. "You creep, that's private stuff!"

"Hey!" Yahiko shouted back, holding up his hands to prevent an attack. "He told us all about her, and anyway, I stopped reading when I got to the mushy stuff!" Kenshin started turning pink.

"Mushy stuff?" Kaoru asked, glancing over at her husband.

"There was no mushy stuff in that diary," muttered an embarrassed Kenshin, who was now turning bright red. 

"Ohoho," laughed Megumi as fox ears started sprouting from her head. "This sounds like something I would have liked to read!" This time it was Sano who sent an elbow flying into Megumi's ribs.

Kenji thought this was just too much. He started running around to jab his elbows into everyone, too, until his mother caught hold of him. What she whispered in his ear must have been the voice of doom, for the three-year-old suddenly sat down very quietly, his tiny hands folded angelically in his lap.

"You may continue reading, Yahiko," Kaoru ordered in her most dangerous-sounding voice.

Yahiko's eyes went wide as he scanned the next page. **"**Hey," he said, "the man we love to hate shows up in this next chapter—it's about the Shinsengumi!" 

"Not that maniac cop Saitou!" Sano said, curling his lip. "That bastard, I still haven't forgiven him for disappearing on me after we fought Shishio. We never did finish that fight!"

"Oh, just shut up and listen!" Yahiko said. He continued to read.

The Hitokiri Battles the Shinsengumi

"'In the summer of 1864, the Chousu, including the Hitokiri Battousai, were forced to flee Kyoto after the Ikedaya affair and the ill-fated attacks of the summer. Now the most feared in the city were the Shinsengumi and the Mimawarigumi, who hunted and killed the Ishin Shishi without mercy. By the following spring, the Chousu realized that if something wasn't done soon, their cause would be lost. It was during this turbulent time that the Hitokiri Battousai returned to Kyoto, but no longer was he a shadow assassin. Now his job was to protect the patriots in Kyoto by attacking these, their most dangerous enemies, at every opportunity. And now, for the first time, his opponents found out what the Hitokiri Battousai really looked like. They quickly learned that if they met a swordsman with a scar like an X on the cheek and hair the color of flames, then the span of their lives was about to come to an end.

"'During this particular evening, the Battousai and a group of fighters had just completed a mission when suddenly, from around the corner, a cry went up: "It's the rebels! Over there!" It was a squad of Shinsengumi who had heard the noise of the fight. Quickly, several of the Shinsengumi peeled off from the main group and headed for the Ishin Shishi fighters. As the rest of the squad was about to leave, a lone figure stood at the head of the street, blocking their way. He had red hair and a scar like an X on his cheek. "It's the assassin! Get him!" they yelled. The squad parted to reveal Okita Soushi, leader of Squad One and considered to be the most talented swordsman of the Shinsengumi. "So, we meet," Okita said calmly. Never before had there been so even a match in a fight, with both swordsmen being of similar height and strength, both swordsmen possessing equally deadly skills. In the blink of an eye, the two men ran towards each other, swords swinging, every movement so quick that it was a blur to the eye. No one could tell who did what until, after what seemed like mere seconds, the two men separated, panting. Okita, however, started coughing, blood appearing on his hands. The disease that was to claim his life was showing its deadly face. 

"'Then, a deep voice sounded, saying "Stand back. You cannot defeat him in your current state." It was Saitou Hajime, leader of Squad Three and the most feared swordsman of the Shinsengumi. He was a tall man with the eyes of a hunter. "Prepare to meet your fate," he growled at the Battousai. He dropped into the stance for his deadly gatotsu, a sword technique no man had ever survived. Then the two men charged at each other, blades flying, but the Battousai emerged unharmed. The two men again charged at each other, this time engaging in blow after blow, but again both emerged unharmed. As they began to ready themselves for a third attempt, Okita suddenly shouted, "Saitou-san, stop! We're ordered to move on!" Saitou was already preparing for another run towards his opponent and ignored the order. "Saitou-san! Now!" and Okita grabbed him before he could go any further. The fight was over. And that is how the two most feared swordsmen in all Japan both lived to fight another day. This story was told to me by one of the Ishin Shishi fighters, who calls himself Kenkiki.'"

"So that's why Saitou hates you so much," Sano said slowly, "because he couldn't finish you off and couldn't finish the fight. Is that why he wanted to kill you that time in the dojo, when Governor Okubo showed up?"

"Yes." Kenshin clenched and unclenched his fists as he remembered that day. Saitou had tried to call up the Battousai within him and had almost succeeded. It was the day the Battousai almost conquered the rurouni, the day he almost broke his vow never to kill. If Governor Okubo hadn't shown up…. He shook his head as if to erase the memory.

"You know," Kenshin said finally, "I did offer to finish that fight with him, after the capture of Enishi. He never came." He sat for a moment thinking about that, but then shook his head again and said, "What do you say we stop and have some lunch, maybe stretch our legs a bit."

"Yeah," Yahiko agreed eagerly, "I'm ready for food, but only if you promise to let us finish this book!"

It was agreed, and Kenshin went to the kitchen to prepare lunch, with the help of Megumi ("We'll keep Kaoru out of the kitchen, shall we?" she murmured in his ear). When they had finished eating, Kaoru put a furiously protesting Kenji down for a nap. Then they settled in to finish the book. Yahiko once again started to read.

****

The Battousai Saves His Lord

"'Sometimes the tides of war shift as quickly as the grains of sand on a beach. In less than two years, the Chousu, who had so recently been banished from Kyoto, had returned and were reasserting their power. This was when the Hitokiri Battousai became the Chousu's most valuable bodyguard. Not long after their return, he was working as part of a bodyguard for Katsura Kogoro, head of the Chousu clan. It was broad daylight, and the group of eight bodyguards was not expecting trouble when suddenly the group was surrounded by thirty Mimawarigumi. The outer bodyguards immediately tried to draw the attackers away, but more attackers poured in. The Battousai immediately threw himself into the fray. Within seconds he had killed three of the Mimawarigumi with one mighty sweep of his sword. As more attackers came forward, he jumped upward; then, with a mighty downward thrust, he cleaved an attacker in two. As quickly as his sword had finished its downward arc, he brought it up again laterally and instantly beheaded the next attacker. 

"'Now he turned to see how Katsura, himself a swordsman of great renown, was faring, only to find an attacker like none of the others taking aim at his lord. It was a ninja, and eight kunai were already in flight aimed at Katsura's chest. Quicker than the eye could see, the Battousai flew in front of Katsura, swirling his sword in his hands so that it was spinning like the blade of a windmill. As the kunai came close, the wind from the sword forced them to drop harmlessly to the ground. Sword still swinging, the Battousai flung himself at the ninja, beheading him as well. When the battle ended, Katsura turned to him and said, "Today, Battousai, you saved not only me, but Japan as well." This story was told to me by Takayama Miyara, one of the bodyguards.'"

"Takayama-san," Kenshin repeated, nodding his head. "He was a good man. I'm glad to know he survived the wars."

"You mean you didn't know before this whether your friends survived the wars?" Sano asked incredulously.

"To be honest," Kenshin answered, "I really didn't have any friends---no one wanted to be near someone like me…."

"And Sano, you know full well Ken-san spent 10 years wandering around so no one would find him," Megumi noted.

"Oh, people found me, all right," Kenshin said harshly. "Sometimes I felt like I had a huge sign on my back saying, 'Get your revenge here.'"

"Yeah, but you lived to tell the tale," Sano chuckled. "Got to admit, you're one lucky bastard!"

"You mean one exceptionally talented swordsman, don't you?" Kaoru said, rather more pointedly than she intended. "I don't think luck had anything to do with it!"

"Ok, ok," Misao cut in. "Geez, for a bunch of old folks, you guys sure know how to have kiddie spats!" A bokken suddenly went whirling in her direction.

"Knock it off, will 'ya?" Yahiko said. "It looks like there's just one more story left anyway."

'That's a relief,' Kenshin thought to himself. "Go on, Yahiko," he said aloud. "Let's get this over with."

****

The Hitokiri at the Battle of Toba Fushimi

"'It took two more years, but finally the era of the Tokugawa was coming to an end. The final blow came at two little towns outside of Kyoto, Toba and Fushimi. Arrayed against the forces of the Shogun were the even greater forces of the Satsuma, Tosa, and Chousu clans, and among the latter was the Hitokiri Battousai. He was put in charge of a squad of men whose job it was to advance to the very front lines and prevent the enemy from moving forward. 

To prepare for battle, it is said that the Battousai would touch the X scar on his cheek and utter a special phrase that sounded like 'Tomomomo.' Some say this phrase was a powerful incantation linked to his superhuman speed, but others say it was a prayer to a lost love. On this day, he had just touched his cheek and was uttering his special phrase when, suddenly, his squad found itself surrounded by Bakufu forces. His men were all experts with a sword, but they were no match for the overwhelming numbers they faced. The Battousai, however, was a match, and using every technique of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, he managed to slay more than a dozen men in the first minutes of battle. Then, when he found himself without opponents, he rushed to the aid of his beleaguered men, slaying a dozen more of the enemy. Then he saw one of his men crumpling under the attack of three soldiers armed with pikes. He raced over, and with a mighty battle cry, he leaped up to the heavens and descended on them like a god of vengeance. With a mighty swing, he cleaved the first soldier in two, then swinging laterally he beheaded the second, and with a backward stroke he killed the third, thus saving his comrade from death. The squad had lost several men, but their mission had succeeded---the enemy did not advance. 

"'At the end of the day, the forces of the Shogun had been defeated. It was the beginning of the restoration of the Emperor Meiji. The Ishin Shishi fighters, tired, hungry, and bedraggled, returned to their camp to celebrate their victory. One man, however, was missing---the Hitokiri Battousai. "Where could he be?" they all wondered. They knew he hadn't been killed, for his men had seen him start walking back to camp. Still, he was nowhere to be found, and he has not been found even to this day. He has disappeared. This story was told to me by Ichiro, the soldier saved that day by the Hitokiri Battousai.

"'And now, dear readers, the legends are at an end. I leave it to you to decide just what kind of man the Hitokiri Battousai was. A bloodthirsty killer or a reluctant assassin? One thing we do know: He was a man who wanted to protect the weak and bring peace to the oppressed, no matter what methods he used. If you, my readers, also desire to protect the weak and do what it takes to preserve the peace of this new age, then you have nothing to fear from the Hitokiri Battousai. But if you don't, then beware!'"

"Well, that's it," said Yahiko, "that's the end. So, Kenshin, you just walked off after the battle without telling a soul, huh?"

"Something like that," Kenshin said quietly. He started to get up, but Yahiko put out a hand to stop him. 

"Wait a minute," Yahiko said slowly. "Someone's written something on the inside of the back cover, and there's a little packet stuck in the binding. Here, take a look." He handed him the book. Kenshin just stared at the inscription.

"Come on, Himura, read it to us already!" Misao said impatiently.

"It says, 'My dear friend Toshiro, I dedicate this book to you, the keeper of the diary and the best friend a lonely father ever had. Without you I would not have made it through this first year in Kyoto. From your friend…. from your friend…." He couldn't finish.

Misao grabbed the book out of his hand. "Hey, I don't believe this! It says 'From your friend Yukishiro Takuo, known as Oibore.' Yukishiro's Enishi's name, isn't it! What gives?"

"Yukishiro was Tomoe's name as well," Kenshin said, looking faint. "Keeper of the diary…. A lonely father…. Tomoe's father? But the name Oibore…. I know I've heard that name, I just can't place it…."

"But that means that Oibore---that nice old man I met---was Tomoe's father?" Megumi said in a strangled voice. "He never said…. and Enishi's father, too. I don't understand…."

Kaoru, meanwhile, was opening the packet tucked into the book's binding. In it was a woman's hairpin. Kenshin stared as she handed it to him.

"Tomoe's hairpin," he whispered. "It was at her grave after Enishi…." 

He squeezed his eyes shut. There was something about that hairpin, if only he could remember…. 

'Pain,' he thought. 'I was in pain…. It was an injury, a severe one. I opened my eyes and saw that hairpin….in white hair, on a man…. It was an old man, and he was trying to get me to eat. He called me his son, said he was proud…. But his name, I can't remember…. The others, though, they called him….Yes! They called him Oibore!' 

Kenshin's eyes flew open. "I remember!" he shouted. "It was in Rakuninmura! The old man, they called him Oibore! He saved me! He made me eat, he made me think! If it hadn't been for him, I would have died there! Oibore! He was Tomoe's father!"

"In Rakuninmura?!" Misao and Yahiko said in unison as they stared at each other.

"Not that old geezer who came begging for a meal?" Misao said. 

"Yeah," Yahiko added, "now that I think about it, he did come right after we visited Kenshin in Rakuninmura."

"And that would explain how your wounds seemed to be awfully clean when you finally did come back to us," Megumi noted.

Sano was rubbing his head. "I don't remember meeting anyone like that."

"Oh, yes, you've met him, too," countered Megumi. "At Kaoru's funeral, remember? When you and Saitou almost came to blows? There was an old man standing there---you talked to him even! That was Oibore. Looks like all of us---except you, Kaoru---have met him."

"But how could he have known…?" Kenshin asked, still half in a daze. 

Kaoru had been silent the whole time, deep in thought. At this, she looked up. "Isn't it obvious?" she said. "It was Tomoe---Tomoe brought her father to you. Didn't you say that when you were in Rakuninmura that Tomoe came to you in a dream, that she smiled for you? Don't you see, she was still looking out for you!"

Kenshin looked again at the book he held in his hands. Now he understood why Toshiro wanted him to read it and leave nothing out---it had been written by Tomoe's father, and obviously written after her father had read her diary. Kenshin read the last few lines of the book again and realized that within those lines was forgiveness for his past and, therefore, for the death of Tomoe at his hands. Six years ago he had found a way to make a semblance of peace with himself over his past as a hitokiri, but he had never been able to forgive himself for what happened to Tomoe. Her father, however, had forgiven him. Now he felt that a last weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Kaoru was right---Tomoe was still looking out for him.

'Tomoe,' Kenshin thought. 'She was kinder than anyone I ever knew….' And he could have sworn that, in his heart, Tomoe was smiling once again.

****

The End

Japanese Terms:

Kuso: a choice expletive.

Ishin Shishi: the anti-Shogunate forces of the civil war.

Chousu: one of the most anti-Shogunate clans.

Anata: term of endearment.

Saya: scabbard.

Bakufu: the Shogunate government.

Conspirator's Note: Ok, before you guys flame me for the way I wrote the _Legends_, I tried to write them in the style I thought an elderly man in 1869 might use to write a book for young boys, namely action-oriented but somewhat florid. I also kept in mind that, according to my story, Oibore wanted to write this book but not be disrespectful of the man he had just discovered was his son-in-law. And, of course, there was no way he was going to mention his own daughter (let alone Kenshin's real name)!

Many grateful thanks to my CoConspirator for helping to write this story! And it is CoConspirator who insists that I admit why I couched the _Legends of the Hitokiri Battousai_ within a story---I couldn't resist having Kenshin spit out his tea! I hope the resulting story-within-a-story was to your liking; at least now Kenshin knows who Oibore really is. A big thank-you to reviewers EK and Enishi for the suggestion that we write Oibore's _Legends of the Hitokiri Battousai_.

And now our tale is truly at an end. It's been great fun. Thanks for all your support!

CoConspirator's Note: Everything Conspirator says!! 


	10. Chapter 10: Oibore's Legends

Author's Note: CoConspirator feels strongly that Oibore's _Legends of the Hitokiri Battousai_ should be a stand-alone story, whereas I could not resist tacking an epilogue story onto his 'book.' So, for all of you who agree with CoConspirator, here is the 'book' all by itself. CoConspirator also thinks there should be more legends in this 'book,' but neither of us is that adept at writing battle scenes (or thinking up new ones). If we come up with other stories---or if you, our readers, wish to contribute a new story or story idea to the 'book'---we might repost this item at a later date. One thing, however, cannot change—all the stories have to take place prior to 1869, since Oibore is writing in 1869. 

In case you didn't read the epilogue, just let me mention that I wrote the _Legends_ in the style I thought an elderly man in 1869 might use to write a book for young boys, namely action-oriented but somewhat florid. I also kept in mind that, according to my story, Oibore wanted to write this book but not be disrespectful of the man he had just discovered was his son-in-law. And, of course, there was no way he was going to mention his own daughter (let alone Kenshin's real name)!

Need I clarify that despite the fact this says the story is by Oibore, this is really a fanfiction written by Conspirator and CoConspirator?

****

Legends of the Hitokiri Battousai

By

Oibore

Published in Kyoto, in the year Meiji 2, 1869

****

Introduction

During the Bakumatsu, there was one name above all others that struck fear into the hearts of those living in Kyoto—Hitokiri Battousai. He has been called a god or a demon not of this world, who had eyes that burned with the fires of hell and could bring lightening down from the sky with a stroke of his katana. Others claim he was a real human possessed of superhuman abilities, who could unsheath his sword quicker than the eye could see and could disappear from sight just as quickly. He has been called a bloodthirsty killer who enjoyed the sounds and smell of death. Others claim he was a reluctant assassin, only meting out death to those the Ishin Shishi deemed to deserve "heaven's justice." Here are six tales of the Hitokiri Battousai. They are all based on stories from people who saw him or knew him. Read them and decide for yourselves, dear readers, what kind of man the Hitokiri Battousai really was.

****

Origins of the Hitokiri Battousai

In the spring of 1863, as soon as the snow had melted from the passes, a small, red-haired boy descended from the mountains outside of Kyoto. He was wearing the clothes of no known clan, and at his side he carried a full-sized katana. To those who knew no better, it looked more like the katana carried the boy rather than the other way around, so when he found his way to the camp of Takasugi Shinsaku and announced that he wanted to join his private army, the Kiheitai, the men laughed. "Boy," one of them said, "if you can even pull that sword from its saya, we'll be amazed!" The boy's eyes glinted with fire, and before the man could even take a breath, the boy had not only pulled out his sword, but had it against the man's throat. "I want to join the Kiheitai," the boy repeated. "Do you believe me now?" That they did, so they took him to Takasugi.

When Takasugi saw him, he asked, "Just how old are you, boy?" The boy answered, "Thirteen, sir." Takasugi couldn't believe this because the boy looked like he was no more than 10 or 11. The boy then said, "I am 13, and I am a master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. I wish to wield my sword to protect the weak and bring peace to the oppressed. I wish to join your Kiheitai." Takasugi was astonished at such words coming from so small a boy, but he decided to treat the request with as much respect as if it had come from a grown man. He took aside his best swordsman, Kagemiru Shinzui, and said, "What do you know of this school of swordsmanship? I've never heard of it." The swordsman answered, "Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu was supposedly invented nearly 300 years ago and was said to be the most feared style of swordsmanship, but that's just legend. I didn't know it really existed. Let the boy and me have a fight, and we'll see what he's made of." So Takasugi turned back to the boy and said, "Boy, you will fight my best swordsman, Kagemiru Shinzui. If you can fight him to a draw or beat him, then you may join the Kiheitai. But this battle will not be to the death---I can't afford to lose even one swordsman!"

So the boy and Kagemiru faced off. Kagemiru was a master of the Jigen style, so he decided to spar with the boy the way he would spar with any talented, 13-year-old Jigen student. So he unsheathed his sword and ran towards the boy, intending to swing upward and out to knock the sword from the boy's hand. As he swung his sword, however, his target disappeared in a blur, only to reappear behind him. Kagemiru pivoted around, this time deciding not to hold back and intending to land a blow with the flat of his sword against the boy's chest. But as he neared the boy, the boy disappeared once again. Kagemiru stopped dead in his tracks, looking all around to find him. Suddenly, a mighty yell came from above his head. As he looked up, he saw the boy descend from the heavens, blade flashing. Before he had time to counter the attack or even to blink his eyes, the boy had the blade against his neck. Kagemiru knew that if this had been a real fight, his head and his body would no longer be enjoying their intimate connection. "This fight," the boy said cooly, "is over."

Not long after this, Katsura Kogoro, head of the Chousu Ishin Shishi, came to visit Takasugi. As he and his aides watched the men of the Kiheitai practice, he noticed the boy among the others. The practice involved attacking a target, a wooden post wrapped with rope. One of Katsura's aides called down to the boy, "Hey, little dumpling, I'll give you a ryo if you can cut that in half," thinking that this would be a very funny joke. Instead, the boy cut the target in half in one stroke, then smashed the other half to pieces with his saya. Then the boy walked up to the aide and held out his hand, saying, "One ryo, please." Katsura turned to Takasugi and said, "I must bring this boy with me to Kyoto. He will be the salvation of the Ishin Shishi." And that is how the boy became the shadow assassin known as the Hitokiri Battousai. This tale was told to me by Kagemiru Shinzui himself.

****

The Hitokiri Battousai Strikes

The Hitokiri Battousai did not choose whom to strike---those names were given to him secretly, in a black envelope. On this particular night, the name was that of one of the most powerful daimyo in all Japan, a man who was considered to be one of the top military strategists of the Shogunate. It was a bitterly cold winter night. The daimyo and his bodyguard of 10 men had just left an important meeting with the Shogun himself when a voice, cold as ice, was heard, saying, "It is time for you to pay for your crimes." There was no one to be seen, so the men started looking all around. 

Suddenly, one of them pointed up at the rooftops. In the dark, all that could be seen were two eyes glowing with the fires of hell. Then, vengeance streaked down from the sky as the Hitokiri Battousai flew into the midst of his enemies. His flaming sword seemed to be everywhere at once, striking dead first the two men in front of him with one mighty swing, then the man behind him as he brought his sword back behind him. Then he ran towards the three men guarding the daimyo, who stood shivering with fright. As the bodyguards started their attack in an attempt to save their lord, the Hitokiri Battousai suddenly seemed to disappear from sight, only to reappear behind the daimyo. Before the daimyo even had time to realize what had happened, the Hitokiri's sword had split him in two. Seconds later, the three surprised bodyguards were dead as well, killed by a circular slash of the Hitokiri's blade. Then he whirled around to face the four bodyguards to the rear. Raising his sword high over his head, he shouted and then brought the sword swinging to the ground, causing the earth itself to open up and swallow the men. Before he disappeared from sight, the Hitokiri Battousai pulled a piece of paper from his sleeve and left it at the bloody scene. "Heaven's justice," the note read. Then he was gone. All this took less than five minutes. This tale was told to me by the one man who escaped, who wishes to remain anonymous.

****

The Two Hitokiri

One rainy spring evening, a young red-haired samurai helped a tavern owner by throwing out some ruffians who were bothering one of the customers. The tavern-owner's wife watched as he left walking down the street, when suddenly she saw a huge man with two swords on chains stand in his way. In a deep voice the man called out, "Hitokiri Battousai, I have been waiting for you. I'll have your life." The woman thought the fight would be over quickly because the red-haired man was not even half as tall as the attacker. 

Quicker than the eye could see, the attacker's two swords went flying out at the Battousai, who immediately whipped out his katana, sending the swords flying back towards their owner. A fierce battle ensued, with swords flashing and clashing, but no blood spilled. Then, without warning, the huge man jumped to the roof and sent down one of his swords so that the chain wrapped completely around his young opponent. The Battousai's eyes glowed with fire as he was totally trapped by the chain, but with superhuman strength he pulled on the chain, thus bringing down the attacker's other sword. As the attacker leaped down to confront him, the Battousai cleaved the attacker in half with that second sword. Blood fell in the alley as thick as the rain. It was learned later that the man who attacked the Battousai that night was the Shogunate's most feared assassin, Murakami Rensato.

"'As the Battousai knelt after the battle to catch his breath, he suddenly heard the voice of a young woman who had come upon the scene. As he turned and walked toward her, she fainted. A rule of the hitokiri is never to leave a witness, but he broke the rule. Instead of killing her, he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the inn where he lived. The innkeeper was annoyed, saying, "What's with you men? You kill all day, then expect to have pleasure at night?" But the Battousai said, "No, no, she fainted in the street, and I couldn't just leave her there! Please take care of her." Then he left. This tale was told to me by Kazuko, the tavern-owners' wife, and Okami, the innkeeper.'"

****

The Hitokiri Battles the Shinsengumi

In the summer of 1864, the Chousu, including the Hitokiri Battousai, were forced to flee Kyoto after the Ikedaya affair and the ill-fated attacks of the summer. Now the most feared in the city were the Shinsengumi and the Mimawarigumi, who hunted and killed the Ishin Shishi without mercy. By the following spring, the Chousu realized that if something wasn't done soon, their cause would be lost. It was during this turbulent time that the Hitokiri Battousai returned to Kyoto, but no longer was he a shadow assassin. Now his job was to protect the patriots in Kyoto by attacking these, their most dangerous enemies, at every opportunity. And now, for the first time, his opponents found out what the Hitokiri Battousai really looked like. They quickly learned that if they met a swordsman with a scar like an X on the cheek and hair the color of flames, then the span of their lives was about to come to an end.

During this particular evening, the Battousai and a group of fighters had just completed a mission when suddenly, from around the corner, a cry went up: "It's the rebels! Over there!" It was a squad of Shinsengumi who had heard the noise of the fight. Quickly, several of the Shinsengumi peeled off from the main group and headed for the Ishin Shishi fighters. As the rest of the squad was about to leave, a lone figure stood at the head of the street, blocking their way. He had red hair and a scar like an X on his cheek. "It's the assassin! Get him!" they yelled. The squad parted to reveal Okita Soushi, leader of Squad One and considered to be the most talented swordsman of the Shinsengumi. "So, we meet," Okita said calmly. Never before had there been so even a match in a fight, with both swordsmen being of similar height and strength, both swordsmen possessing equally deadly skills. In the blink of an eye, the two men ran towards each other, swords swinging, every movement so quick that it was a blur to the eye. No one could tell who did what until, after what seemed like mere seconds, the two men separated, panting. Okita, however, started coughing, blood appearing on his hands. The disease that was to claim his life was showing its deadly face. 

Then, a deep voice sounded, saying "Stand back. You cannot defeat him in your current state." It was Saitou Hajime, leader of Squad Three and the most feared swordsman of the Shinsengumi. He was a tall man with the eyes of a hunter. "Prepare to meet your fate," he growled at the Battousai. He dropped into the stance for his deadly gatotsu, a sword technique no man had ever survived. Then the two men charged at each other, blades flying, but the Battousai emerged unharmed. The two men again charged at each other, this time engaging in blow after blow, but again both emerged unharmed. As they began to ready themselves for a third attempt, Okita suddenly shouted, "Saitou-san, stop! We're ordered to move on!" Saitou was already preparing for another run towards his opponent and ignored the order. "Saitou-san! Now!" and Okita grabbed him before he could go any further. The fight was over. And that is how the two most feared swordsmen in all Japan both lived to fight another day. This story was told to me by one of the Ishin Shishi fighters, who calls himself Kenkiki.

****

The Battousai Saves His Lord

Sometimes the tides of war shift as quickly as the grains of sand on a beach. In little over a year, the Chousu, who had been banished from Kyoto, were able to return, and they began to reassert their power. This was when the Hitokiri Battousai became the Chousu's most valuable bodyguard. Not long after the return of the Chousu, he was working as part of a bodyguard for Katsura Kogoro, head of the Chousu clan. It was broad daylight, and the group of eight bodyguards was not expecting trouble when suddenly the group was surrounded by thirty Mimawarigumi. The outer bodyguards immediately tried to draw the attackers away, but more attackers poured in. The Battousai immediately threw himself into the fray. Within seconds he had killed three of the Mimawarigumi with one mighty sweep of his sword. As more attackers came forward, he jumped upward; then, with a mighty downward thrust, he cleaved an attacker in two. As quickly as his sword had finished its downward arc, he brought it up again laterally and instantly beheaded the next attacker. 

Now he turned to see how Katsura, himself a swordsman of great renown, was faring, only to find an attacker like none of the others taking aim at his lord. It was a ninja, and eight kunai were already in flight aimed at Katsura's chest. Quicker than the eye could see, the Battousai flew in front of Katsura, swirling his sword in his hands so that it was spinning like the blade of a windmill. As the kunai came close, the wind from the sword forced them to drop harmlessly to the ground. Sword still swinging, the Battousai flung himself at the ninja, beheading him as well. When the battle ended, Katsura turned to him and said, "Today, Battousai, you saved not only me, but Japan as well." This story was told to me by Takayama Miyara, one of the bodyguards.

****

The Hitokiri at the Battle of Toba Fushimi

It took two more years, but finally it seemed that the era of the Tokugawa was coming to an end. The final blow came at two little towns outside of Kyoto, Toba and Fushimi. Arrayed against the forces of the Shogun were the even greater forces of the Satsuma, Tosa, and Chousu clans, and among the latter was the Hitokiri Battousai. He was put in charge of a squad of men whose job it was to advance to the very front lines and prevent the enemy from moving forward. 

To prepare for battle, it is said that the Battousai would touch the X scar on his cheek and utter a special phrase that sounded like 'Tomomomo.' Some say this phrase was a powerful incantation linked to his superhuman speed, but others say it was a prayer to a lost love. On this day, he had just touched his cheek and uttered his special phrase when, suddenly, his squad found itself surrounded by Bakufu forces. His men were all experts with a sword, but they were no match for the overwhelming numbers they faced. The Battousai, however, was a match, and using every technique of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, he managed to slay more than a dozen men in the first minutes of battle. Then, when he found himself without opponents, he rushed to the aid of his beleaguered men, slaying a dozen more of the enemy. Then he saw one of his men crumpling under the attack of three soldiers armed with pikes. He raced over, and with a mighty battle cry, he leaped up to the heavens and descended on them like a god of vengeance. With a mighty swing, he cleaved the first soldier in two, then swinging laterally he beheaded the second, and with a backward stroke he killed the third, thus saving his comrade from death. The squad had lost several men, but their mission had succeeded---the enemy did not advance. 

At the end of the day, the forces of the Shogun had been defeated. It was the beginning of the restoration of the Emperor Meiji. The Ishin Shishi fighters, tired, hungry, and bedraggled, returned to their camp to celebrate their victory. One man, however, was missing---the Hitokiri Battousai. "Where could he be?" they all wondered. They knew he hadn't been killed, for his men had seen him start walking back to camp. Still, he was nowhere to be found, and he has not been found even to this day. He has disappeared. This story was told to me by Ichiro, the soldier saved that day by the Hitokiri Battousai.

And now, dear readers, the legends are at an end. I leave it to you to decide just what kind of man the Hitokiri Battousai was. A bloodthirsty killer or a reluctant assassin? One thing we do know: He was a man who wanted to protect the weak and bring peace to the oppressed, no matter what methods he used. If you, my readers, also desire to protect the weak and do what it takes to preserve the peace of this new age, then you have nothing to fear from the Hitokiri Battousai. But if you don't, then beware!

Oibore (his mark)

Japanese terms:

Bakumatsu: Japan's civil war.

Katana: long sword.

Saya: scabbard.

Jigen: one of the most well-known and deadly sword-fighting styles.

Chousu: name of one of the most anti-Shogun clans.

Ishin Shishi: those fighting against the Shogunate.

Ryo: Japanese coin.

Daimyo: a lord, in the feudal sense.


End file.
